Firelight
by Riverstyxx
Summary: She was one of only three eggs to survive the raid on the Dragon Temple, saved by chance and the greed of a lowly ape. Now, twelve years later, her quest for vengeance unites a group of unlikely friends on a journey to fulfil their dreams in a world torn apart by war.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello, hello Spyro fans and welcome to the first chapter, or should I say prologue, of my newest story. This story is not related in any way to my other stories, so don't feel pressured to read those if you haven't already. :P To those who do follow my other works, please note that I am still continuing Residual Darkness alongside this story (and will update it very soon), though updates may be slow. In the mean time, please enjoy the beginning of this story.**

**Special thanks to Son of the Sea 1008 for proof reading. :)**

**This is an OC-based fic. Spyro, Cynder, the guardians and most other canon characters will not feature prominently, if at all. I'll try to keep updates as regular as I can. Without further ado, I present to you:**

_**Firelight**_

_Cloaked in shadows of the night_

_Our hopes and dreams are out of sight_

_But side by side, we'll reach new heights_

_And find our way by firelight_

**Prologue**

A thunderous rumble shook the temple to its very foundations, wrenching dust from tiny cracks in the walls and ceiling. Around the walls in their secure nests of straw perched on pedestals of stone, clutches of eggs trembled in the aftermath of the quake. A red dragon steadied himself in the centre of the room, paws shuffling through loose chips of stone that littered the floor. His eyes were wide and shocked.

The temple shook once more, showers of dust raining down upon the crimson scales of the dragon, and he spun around as the door to his left was wrenched open. Another dragon staggered into the room, barely keeping his footing, his electric-blue eyes rolling in terror.

"Save them! The Dark Armies have come!"

Fear gripped the heart of the red dragon and for a moment it stopped him in his tracks. But only for a moment. With a swift fluidness that left one wondering if he had intended to do this all along, he turned towards the nearest nest and scooped a single egg into his paw. The rich purple of its shell clashed violently with the crimson red of his scales as he held it close to his chest, protectively. Then, with a fleeting glance at the other dragon, he spun away.

In his haste, the red dragon did not bother to look when his tail caught the side of a nearby pedestal. His thoughts were only on the egg he held in his grasp and its safety. The pedestal trembled for a moment, rocking side to side as it threatened to fall. It would have steadied itself had it not been for the violent tremor that shook the temple at that very moment.

With a harsh clatter the pedestal fell to its side, the stone bowl parting ways with its stand as it hit the floor. From the straw nest that had been nestled inside the bowl, a single egg bounced free. As the temple shook around it, the egg rolled unnoticed towards the secret door through which the red dragon had fled but seconds ago. In his mad dash he had left the door open to the outside world, through which a weak breeze was flowing.

Down the slight downward slope through the doorway, the egg rolled until it touched swampy earth. It teetered for a tense moment at the cusp of a shallow sloping hill, inches from the secret doorway to the temple. Then gravity clasped its claws around the egg and dragged it down the slope, rolling and bouncing over roots and clumps of vegetation, jostling the unborn hatchling within. As it reached the point where the earth levelled out, the egg struck a protruding root and was launched into the waiting grasp of a spiky shrub, breaking through twigs until it lay nestled within.

Slowly it settled into the moist earth of the swamp, half hidden by the thin leaves that covered it. For hours it lay splotched by moonlight, only metres from the chaos that visited the temple that night. The growing hatchling within heard nothing of the screams and screeches, the roars and howls, or the crackling of fire that ate greedily at whatever it touched. It was unaware that, at that very moment, the other eggs were being shattered like glass—or that, by morning, it would be one of only three eggs to survive the massacre.

It wasn't until the dawn sun rose to caress the ruby surface of the half-hidden egg that it was spotted by a pair of prying, greedy eyes.


	2. My Name is Charla

**A/N: I wanted to updated RD before I posted this, but it's still not done, so have this instead. :P Thank you kindly for all of the reviews last chapter, despite how tiny the prologue was. Here is the actual first chapter, more of an introductory chapter for our main character than anything. Also, why I felt compelled to not reveal her name until the end of the chapter (despite the fact that it's in the title xD) I don't know. **

**Enjoy. :)**

**Chapter 1.**

**My Name is Charla**

Sunlight bled through the canopy, dappling the leathery scales of a small lizard that lay sunning itself upon a rock. There was hardly a breeze to disturb the dozing reptile and the leaves of the forest were eerily still. Somewhere nearby, the bushes rustled unexpectedly, a harsh sound in the silence. The lizard raised its head sharply.

The bushes stopped rustling abruptly and lay still under the lizard's wary gaze. Seconds ticked by, the silence unbroken, and the reptile laid its head back down on the warm surface of the rock. A slight tremor ran through the bushes, barely noticeable. The lizard didn't respond.

The violent rustling of leaves was the only warning before something bright red and much larger than the lizard suddenly burst out of the bushes. The startled reptile shot away into the undergrowth barely a millisecond before the creature's taloned claws slammed down on the rock where it had been dozing. A whine left the hunter's lips as she opened her paws to find her prey had escaped.

"I missed it," she grumbled, glaring at the bushes into which the lizard had disappeared. "There goes lunch."

Her stomach groaned disapprovingly and she gave it a sympathetic glance. With a groan, the young dragon—for that was indeed what she was—flopped onto her back and held a paw to her pale pinkish belly scales. Brilliant ruby-red scales clashed violently with the earthy tones of the forest around her.

"I'll starve if this keeps up," she groaned to no one, leaf-green eyes squinting against the dappled sunlight that peered through the foliage. "How long has it been since I last ate?"

Raising a forepaw to her face, she wiggled her talons and muttered, "Two...three days? Oooh, so _hungry_! I guess it...could be worse..."

A solemn look dampened her expression and she stared sadly up at the foliage for a long moment, lost in thought. A feeble gust of wind teased the leaves and brought her back to her senses. With a sigh and a groan, the dragoness rolled onto her belly and stood up.

"Can't stay here forever," she said brightly to herself in an effort to keep the silence at bay. "I was getting sick of this forest, anyway."

Clambering up onto the sun-warmed stone that the lizard had been laying on, the dragoness spread her dark red wings and flexed them experimentally. She glanced at her left wing almost suspiciously and flexed it a second time. The expected twinge of pain didn't come and she smiled with satisfaction.

"At least that's healed. Now, let's see how rusty my flying skills have gotten."

Under the shade of dense undergrowth, the lucky lizard that had almost become lunch for a hungry dragoness watched as the would-be hunter spread blood-red wings and beat them hard against the open air. Several times she did this, sending sharp gusts of wind rippling over the tops of the undergrowth and causing the nervous lizard to flatten itself to the ground. Then, with a mighty leap that showcased the impressive muscles in her back legs, the dragon leapt skyward and her talons scored white scratches in the surface of the rock.

Several powerful wing-beats carried her further from the ground and with a whoop of triumph she caught the wind and cleared the canopy. Twisting gracefully in the air, the red dragoness shot away towards the north-east, the wind ruffling the leaves of the treetops in her wake. Slowly, the sound of her wing-beats faded and left the clearing in relative silence. But it was still several minutes before the lizard found the courage to creep out of its hiding place and return to its warm patch of sun.

The red dragoness couldn't withhold a shout of joy as she took to the sky. It felt like years since she had last flown and her wings had been aching for use. For a while she had even harboured the thought she wouldn't be able to remember how to fly at all. But those thoughts were all but whipped away by the wind as it rushed over her ruby scales and lifted her high above the canopy of the forest.

Elated by the joy of flight, the young huntress turned several loop-de-loops above the treetops—just to test her aerodynamics, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the adrenaline rush. Nothing at all.

White fangs flashed in a grin as she pulled out of a corkscrew and caught herself seconds before she hit the canopy. Climbing higher with a few well-timed flaps, she found a steady air current and spread her wings wide to let the wind do the work. Still filled with adrenaline, the grinning dragoness turned her eyes ahead, seeking out the horizon. The forest continued almost as far as the eye could see, but she thought she could see the foggy, indistinct shapes of mountains far in the distance. Above her the sky was flawless blue, almost cloudless and apparently endless.

The red dragoness breathed deep and expelled a sigh of satisfaction—but then her stomach churned and rumbled again, ruining the moment. Groaning, she turned her gaze back to the trees below, searching out gaps in the canopy through which she hoped to spot a prospective meal. But nothing caught her eye.

Midday was giving way to afternoon by the time the dragoness decided she'd have better luck hunting on the ground and started looking for a place to land. She was just circling a small clearing, aiming for the narrow gap in the canopy, when she heard something that stopped her in her tracks. The howl of a hound—not the mournful, eerie howl of a lone wanderer, but the blood-chilling cry of a beast that had found its prey.

The hungry dragoness banked hard and powered towards the sound, her mind already running through the possibilities. If she was quick and stealthy, stealing a hound's prey would be all too simple, especially for one as practiced as her. Mouth already watering at the thought of a fresh meal, she listened hard for the sound of the hunter that would lead her to her lunch.

There it was again—a greedy, excited cry of a hunter closing in on helpless prey. She could almost smell it already.

"Not today, buddy," the dragoness muttered, licking her lips in anticipation as she dove towards a gap in the canopy. "The only one who'll be eating today is me."

The leaves tickled her scales as she fell soundlessly through the gap in the canopy, pulling her wings against her sides. The ground loomed below her, but it was not the graceful landing she had been hoping for. As she opened out her wings to catch herself before she hit the earth, the tip of her left wing caught the end of a branch and jostled her sharply. With a yelp, she touched down awkwardly, harder than intended and with too much weight on her forelegs. They gave out beneath her and her chin hit the ground hard, snapping her jaws shut and cutting off her yelp of pain.

Twigs and leaves rained down upon the prone dragoness as she lay groaning in the grass, slightly cross-eyed and stunned from her ungainly landing. No doubt the hound would have heard that, she thought to herself as she returned to her senses, wincing at the ache in her legs and the bruise on her chin. She pushed herself up and sat on her hind legs, shaking out her forepaws to get rid of any stiffness that had resulted from her crash.

"Graceful," she muttered to herself, rolling her neck and getting back to her feet. Then, deciding it was best to pretend she hadn't crash-landed, she scampered off in search of the hound she was planning to rob—that is, if it hadn't heard her crash-landing and wasn't already making off with its prey.

"Unless I scared the prey off," she mused thoughtfully as she slunk into the bushes. She could smell the hound now, a putrid smell that she knew quite well and wasn't overly fond of. It had to be close, and by the sound of it, the beast was still taunting its lunch. Its hungry growls filled the air as the dragoness crept closer through the undergrowth, keeping as silent as possible.

Twigs cracked under her paws and she flinched at every sound she made, until finally she had the hound in her sights. Through the leaves she could see it hunched over with its back to her, growling at something that its barrel-like body hid from view. Its long reptilian tail swished eagerly behind it, so close to her snout that she could almost feel it against her scales. Licking her lips, she tensed her hindquarters and waited for the right moment.

Let the hound make the first move, she told herself. It was already far too focused on whatever its prey was to notice that she was there. As soon as it struck, she'd dart forward and steal lunch right out from under its ugly nose. All she needed to do was wait. Grinning devilishly, she swished her tail and prepared to pounce.

"Back! Back, you fiend!"

The shrill, panicked voice caused the ruby dragoness to falter, startled by the unexpected sound. Her hindquarters stopped wiggling and dropped back to the ground, and she raised her head ever so slightly, eyes curious. The hound uttered an impatient growl and tried to snap at its prey, but still she could not see what it was. A dull thud was followed by a pained yelp from the hound and it quickly backed up a few steps. The dragon shuffled backwards as quietly as she could, just barely avoiding the swishing reptilian tail of the beast.

"I said get back!" repeated the voice angrily. It was high-pitched, but still obviously male, with a definite undertone of panic behind the indignant fury. Frowning, the dragon began to edge to the side, craning her head to get a better look around the hound.

What she saw surprised her. A lanky hare stood trapped between the hound's snarling jaws and the thick trunk of a tree, bouncing on his hind legs and clenching his paws defensively. He was about two thirds as tall as she, as least when he was standing on his hind legs, and his long ears increased that height by almost half. Currently they were standing straight up and quivering; no doubt a sign of his distress. For a moment the dragoness thought the hare was merely worried for himself—a second glance proved that wrong.

Huddled behind the defensive male hare was another smaller hare, with long drooping ears and wide frightened eyes. The dragoness recognized her instantly as a female, and her stomach did a strange flip-flop when she saw the kittens huddled up against their mother's white underbelly fur. The tiny hares were trembling, as was their mother, and there was nowhere to run. Only the male hare stood between them and the jaws of death, and he was at the end of his tether.

"You won't…you won't touch a single hair on her head, you hear!" the hare stammered out, brimming with obviously false bravado. "I'll…I'll…kick you again! I swear it!"

The hound snorted with frustration and pawed at its nose, and the dragoness realised the hare must have kicked it. The thought caused a grin to spread across her face, despite the situation. But then a menacing snarl left the hound's throat, the hare froze, and the dragoness was struck by a sudden need to protect the kittens. Her stomach rumbled in protest and she groaned under her breath.

"So much for…lunch!" she cried aloud as she burst from her hiding place at almost the exact moment the hound charged. The hare spun around and kicked out hard with his hind legs, but they hardly grazed the cheek of the hungry hound. With a yelp, the hare flopped onto his belly and covered his ears with his forepaws, preparing to become lunch.

The ruby dragoness landed forepaws first on the hound's back, driving it into the ground and linking her claws into its thick, foul-smelling fur. It surged upwards almost instantly, intending to throw her off, but she clung tight. As it overbalanced, she dragged it instead onto its side. She winced as she hit the ground hard and the wind was forced out of her lungs. Tearing her claws from the beast's fur, she rolled away and jumped upright just as the hound charged at her.

Angry at being interrupted from its potential meal, the canine immediately attacked the intruder, driving its head hard into her pinkish-red chest. The dragoness yelped as the hound's tiny stubby horns connected with her scales and she was driven back several feet, her hind legs scraping great gouges in the soft earth. Growling, she fastened her forepaws around the back of the hound's head, digging her claws into its thick fur and trying to pierce its leathery skin. But with a jerk of its head it threw her off balance and sent her crashing to the ground.

A gasp left her lips as her left wing was bent oddly underneath her, sending a jolt of pain down through her left leg. She rolled out of the way just in time to catch a glimpse of the male hare ushering his frightened doe and kittens into a nearby bush to escape the fight. Grinning wildly, the ruby dragoness suddenly whirled on the hound as it stalked towards her, flames flickering between her jaws.

"Things are about to get hotter, buddy!" she cried triumphantly, seconds before an inferno exploded from her jaws. It engulfed the yelping hound before it had a chance to back-peddle and escape, and its howls of pain echoed hauntingly throughout the clearing. But the triumphant grin was wiped from the dragoness's face when the canine suddenly burst out of the inferno, fur smouldering, sending embers flying as it charged.

With a yell she leapt skyward, beating her wings furiously, and felt the rush of hot air as the smoking hound shot beneath her. Trails of flame scarred the ground in its wake and she realised with a jolt of horror than it could easily spread to the entire forest. Landing back on the ground again, she stamped quickly on the flames, ignoring the burning sensation on the soft pads of her paws. But the hound wasn't done yet.

Turning around, the still-smoking canine pawed the earth warningly before it charged again. But the ruby dragoness saw it coming this time. With a snarl of defiance, she dug her claws into the soft earth and shot towards the hound like an arrow from a bow. Flames licked at her scales and burst to life around her as, like a living fireball, she collided headfirst with the charging hound. There was a resounding crash followed by a high-pitched shriek of pain as the dragoness's comet dash sent them both flying into the trees, cracking branches and setting leaves alight.

The trunk of a tree splintered as the hound struck it and both combatants collapsed at its base, still smouldering. Flames licked at the vegetation around them as the dragoness slowly staggered to her feet, panting. The hound did not move again, its tongue lolling out of its mouth and its own blood staining its fearsome fangs. Grinning, the red dragoness turned away from her defeated opponent and staggered back into the clearing, smoke rising from her scales in billows.

Across the other side of the clearing, the family of hares crept out of their hiding place and gazed in awe.

* * *

"I don't know how we can ever repay you," the male hare said as he brushed the ash off the dragoness's shoulder and dusted his paws on his fur. "You saved our lives."

A wide yawn showed off impressive rows of white teeth and the ruby dragoness stretched out on her belly, grinning. She'd managed to put out the fires minutes ago and now the hares were tending to her aching body. Not that she had suffered many injuries—other than the sizeable bruise on her chest and what could have been a sprained wing, she was completely unharmed. Her scales _were_ covered in ash, though, much like the rest of the clearing.

"Just fetch me something to eat," she told the hare airily, pawing ash from her muzzle. "I haven't eaten in days!"

With a meaningful nod, an unspoken request was passed between the two hares and the doe bounded off into the bushes, leaving her kittens huddled around their father. The red dragoness gazed at them fondly—and perhaps a little hungrily. They'd make such quick, tasty morsels. She wasn't sure if dragons usually ate hare. Now, rabbit she'd had before and hares didn't look all that different, but something about them _seemed_ different. For a start, they could talk.

"You're a hunter," the male hare remarked moments later. Perhaps he had noticed the way she eyed his kits. The dragoness grinned sheepishly. "You could have easily waited for that beast to kill us and stolen his prey. Why didn't you?"

"Hey, believe me, I thought about it," she said with a wry grin and thought the hare looked a little worried. Her eyes shifted back to the kits and her expression softened. "But I couldn't let a beast like that eat a whole family. Talk about indigestion."

The hare hesitated, removing his paws from her scales uneasily, and for a moment their gazes met. Black on green. Suddenly, a grin split her face and she laughed. The hare's ears stood on end like antennae, which only succeeded in adding to her laughter.

"I'm kidding!" she exclaimed, green eyes sparkling. The hare's shoulders relaxed and his ears drooped ever so slightly.

"I'm…sorry," he said uncertainly, whiskers twitching. "We're not used to dealing with…predators."

His gaze swept over her deadly claws and her grinning teeth as he spoke, and she couldn't help but offer him an apologetic smile. The kits were giggling and playing behind him, apparently oblivious to the awkward conversation between hare and dragon.

"No kidding." The ruby dragoness smirked. "I'm not used to dealing with hares. Heck, I don't even know if dragons eat hare!"

The hare's ears twitched and he looked uneasy again, but she didn't get another chance to worry him again before his doe returned. She hopped back through the bushes awkwardly on two legs, a pile of bright red berries collected in her forelegs. The dragoness watched in amazement as the female hare hopped closer and tipped the berries onto the ground in front of her. They were almost the exact colour of her scales.

"Wow…sweet," she exclaimed, leaning forward to sniff suspiciously at the berries.

"I know it's not what hunters usually eat," the doe apologised uneasily, "but it's all we can do for you."

However, the ruby dragoness was already stuffing her face, bright red juice running down her chin as she wolfed them down. Cheeks bulging, she raised her face to the two hares and nodded.

"You kidding?" she mumbled through her mouthful, before gulping it down in one go. "This is great! At least I won't starve."

"You're, uh…welcome," the male hare said awkwardly, scratching one of his long ears. He and his doe exchanged bemused looks as the dragoness gulped down the last of her berries. When they were all gone, she swiped the juice from her chin with the back of a paw and clambered to her feet, stretching out her limbs.

"Right," she announced, shaking the last flecks of ash from her tail. "I'm off. Thanks for the meal, Mr. and Mrs. Hare. Sorry about almost burning the forest down."

"Leaving so soon?" asked the doe, but the dragoness didn't miss the hopeful note in her voice. Not that she blamed her. Having a predator stick around for too long wasn't on the wish list for any small morsels like her.

"Do, um, _enjoy_ your journey," the male hare offered, and it was all too clear from his tone that he wanted nothing more than to see her leave. "Wherever it is that you are going."

The ruby dragoness grinned widely, displaying white fangs stained with crimson berry juice, and turned away with a flick of her tail. But she'd hardly reached the middle of the clearing before she looked back as though she'd forgotten something. The hares gazed back at her inquisitively.

"One more thing…" the red dragoness said slowly, thinking hard. "I don't suppose you've seen any apes around recently?"

"Apes?" the hares seemed surprised. They glanced nervously at each other, whiskers twitching uneasily. The dragoness waited patiently for an answer and moments later she got it.

"Well, yes…there's an encampment about a day's hop that way," said the male hare, pointing due north with one paw. "But you'd best stay clear of it. They're not the most…_hospitable_ of creatures, those apes."

"Don't I know it," the dragoness muttered, more to herself than to the confused hares. She offered them another grateful grin, eyes sparkling. "Thanks. Guess I'll see you around. Or probably not. Have a good life. Take care of your kids."

With that, she spun around and flared her wings out, sending ash flying in the resulting gust of wind. But just as she prepared to take flight through the gap in the canopy, the female hare hoped a few paces forward and called out.

"Wait! Wait a moment!" she called. "You didn't tell us your name!"

Wind rushed around the ruby dragoness as she kicked against the ground and lifted into the air, carrying herself higher with a heavy beat of her maroon wings. When she cleared the top of the canopy, she turned to look back at the hares gazing up at her with curious black eyes. Her own blazed with confident fire.

"My name is Charla!"


	3. The Prisoner

**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews last chapter, everybody! I'm glad everyone is enjoying this so far. :D Charla's story will be told in another few chapters, so for now bear with not knowing about her past. :P This story takes place during ANB and TEN, so she is currently the same age as Spyro was in ANB. More on that will be discussed in-story in the next few chapters. Today we meet our second main character. **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2.**

**The Prisoner**

Charla had dealt with apes before, many more times than just once. She knew for a fact they were brutish, uncivilised, violent, unpleasant and just downright greedy. But not once did she stop to question herself why she was willingly walking right into their greedy little paws—searching for them, even. The answer to that particular question was as prominent as the sharp ivory horns that graced her head. At least, to her.

She wasn't sure how long a 'day's hop' compared to a 'day's flight', but by the time two hours had passed and the sun was beginning its journey back to the horizon, she decided it was a trip best taken on the ground. Leaving the freedom of the open air for the safety of the enclosed forest was not Charla's favourite thing to do—especially now that she was finally able to fly again after being grounded for nigh on two weeks—but it might have been the wisest. She crept through the dense undergrowth, stealthy as a toadweed, trying to ignore the grumbling of her stomach, which had only been appeased for a short while by that unsubstantial pawful of berries.

Another twig cracked under her paw, her ankle caught the loop of an upturned root, and the ruby dragoness stumbled over her own paws, cursing. Furiously slashing at the offending roots with the curving blade on the end of her tail, she continued on her way with a defiant blaze in her eyes, high-stepping over the leaf litter. The trees here were closer together than they had been previously and Charla wondered if she was closer to the heart of the forest. Vines looped around the twisting branches and dangled in her path until she brushed violently past them and left them swaying as though in a non-existent wind.

By the time the sun was over halfway towards the horizon, Charla found what she had been looking for.

The noise was the first thing she noticed. At first the serene silence of the forest had been broken only by her clumsy ambling and quiet curses, but she stopped dead in her tracks when the almost unintelligible sound of many voices chatting breached the quiet. Eyes glinting eagerly, Charla flattened herself to the earth and crept closer to the source of the voices. There were many, she soon realized, enough for her to wonder if an entire town had been built in the centre of the forest. But a glance through the dense trees proved that notion wrong. Half wrong.

Right on the other side of the trees a massive clearing had been made—not by the forest itself, but by the many apes who had, with their curious and bizarre machinery, cut down as many of the trees as they had seen fit. Now their makeshift wooden and metal buildings formed a large encampment the size of a small village, right in the heart of the forest. They mingled together under awnings and around campfires, sharpening or polishing their weapons and chatting in voices almost too quick to be understood. Their raucous laughing jarred Charla to the bones. The smell was the next thing she noticed.

"Don't these brutes ever bathe?" she hissed to herself in disgust. A pair of apes strode past her hiding place at that very moment and she flattened herself silently to the ground, one green eye peeking through the gap in the vines. When they had passed, she raised her head to take another quick look, which confirmed her suspicions. The entire encampment was surrounded by patrolling guards.

Grimacing, Charla backed up slightly, the cogs in her brain whirring. One dragoness against an entire encampment of—Charla estimated—over two hundred apes. Not the most ideal odds. She would have given anything just to have come across a small patrol alone in the forest, of no more than ten or twenty. They would have been no trouble. But the apes were here now and so was she. She wasn't about to pass up this opportunity, no matter the odds.

"What to do, what to do…" mumbling to herself, she edged slowly around the perimeter of the camp, looking for anything and something. A weakness, a potential distraction, a…prisoner?

The ruby dragoness stopped dead and did a double-take, wondering for a moment if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She ducked out of sight when another guard ambled past, and looked up again when he had moved on. Her eyes zoned in on a figure near the centre of the encampment and her heart did a strange tap-dance in astonishment. There was no mistaking it.

There, in the very centre of a heavily-guarded ape encampment, was another dragon.

He was bigger than she was, by about double if her estimations were correct, and a deep green colour that almost blended with the forest. Heavy metal chains were connected to manacles around his ankles, neck and tail, chaining him to a thick metal pole buried deep in the earth. The apes kept a wide birth from him, so much so that he looked strangely alone in the centre of the camp, surrounded by empty space reminiscent of a blast radius, his head bowed to the ground. He didn't move and looked as though he hadn't for a long time, and Charla wondered if he'd already died.

Kneading the ground impatiently, the ruby dragoness glanced from the patrolling apes to the chained dragon and quickly made up her mind. Putting aside whatever plans she'd had for taking on an entire encampment of apes alone, she resolved to speak with this dragon, whoever he was. All she had to do was wait for the right moment.

* * *

Night crept up slowly on the forest encampment and so too did the dragoness Charla, her scales smeared with mud to conceal their natural sheen that, under the moonlight, would only give her away. She had watched the apes all afternoon, observing their comings and goings and deducing who was in charge. It hadn't been hard to spot him—a massive ape, at least a head larger than any other, with an impressive headdress of yellow and red feathers that perfectly matched the vibrant ruby of his nose. He carried a giant metal hammer with a head easily over half Charla's size, and likely just as heavy as all of her.

But it was not the headdress, the hammer, nor even the size of him that marked this ape as a leader—no, it was that he was well and truly in charge. Every order he barked was carried out immediately by whatever apes had the misfortune to be in close vicinity. Whenever the patrolling guards spotted something untoward, they reported almost instantaneously to him. And Charla had only once before ever seen apes so respectful to another.

"Commander Pev! The hunting patrol has returned, sir!"

"Commander Pev! Border patrol reporting, sir!"

"Yes, sir, Commander Pev!"

Charla's ears were already ringing with his name and it had only been a maximum of four hours since she had arrived on the outskirts of the encampment. Whatever this ape had done to govern such respect, she wasn't sure she wanted to hang around to find out. But through it all, she couldn't help but notice that no ape stepped within the empty radius that surrounded the chained dragon. It was as though he was expected to explode at any time. But to Charla, he looked half dead.

By nightfall she had pushed those thoughts aside and waited patiently for the day patrol to turn in and the night patrol to take over. Commander Pev had retreated into his own private bunker long before, which brought some relief to the young dragoness. She had been getting sick of staring at his gaudy headdress and listening to the barks of his loyal apes as they carried out his every whim. But that still didn't solve her problem of getting past the patrolling apes.

She was just feeling edgy and weighing up the odds—how quietly could she kill a few apes without waking the rest?—when the two apes pacing not far from her hiding place decided to turn in. Charla watched them eagerly, her tail twitching in anticipation, and they disappeared into a large metal bunker, no doubt to fetch the night guards. Recognising the opportunity, the dirt-covered dragoness slipped from her hiding place with the slightest rustling of leaves.

Keeping low to the ground, Charla slunk around the side of the massive bunker, hoping to stay out of sight of the other side of the encampment—in case the patrolling apes there had yet to turn in. The dirt crunched under her paws no matter how delicately she tried to tread, and every sound made her flinch. But no apes came running and the encampment remained silent and empty, as though all life had deserted it. She knew it was only a matter of time before the night patrol left their bunkers.

At the corner of the metal building, Charla paused to scope her surroundings and noted with satisfaction that there were no apes to hinder her. Feeling confident, she set her sights on the chained dragon and slunk towards him. She kept in the shadows cast by the buildings for as long as she could, but all too soon she reached the edge of the empty space that surrounded the prisoner. A substantial stretch of trampled dirt remained between her and her objective, with nary a shadow to hide in. But that wouldn't stop Charla.

Another glance backward confirmed that the night patrol was feeling rebellious tonight and shirking their duties, and a grin cracked her muzzle. Practically brimming with nervous excitement, Charla stepped out into the circle of moonlight and scurried as quickly and silently as she could to the chained dragon's side. She could almost feel the light of the moons on her mud-slicked scales, like watchful eyes burning on her back. She would have to make this quick.

Up close, Charla could see that her estimations regarding the size of this dragon had been accurate—he was easily twice her size, if not bigger. Muscles rippled under lustreless green scales, somehow made more impressive by the ropey scars that seemed to cover every square inch of his bulky form. A metal muzzle was strapped tight to his snout by a leather band fastened under the base of his horns. Though there was some space between his chin and the lower rim of the muzzle, it had likely been some time since he had last stretched his jaws to their fullest.

He seemed to be asleep, his head hanging several inches above the ground and the chain attached to the iron collar around his neck stretched taut. In the revealing light of the moons, Charla could see that his eyes were closed. Her eyes raked his chest and flank, searching for any signs that he was still breathing—still alive. It was hard to tell, though. Feeling edgy, she cleared her throat softly.

Dark green eyelids slid upwards almost immediately to reveal iron-grey eyes that, unlike his scales, had not lost their lustre. For a moment they looked out of focus, until he blinked and met Charla's curious gaze. A rigid silence passed between them.

"Hi," Charla said, seconds later, sounding as though she'd merely found him sleeping in the middle of the street—and not as a prisoner in the middle of an ape camp. His eyes briefly went out of focus again and his head shifted with a soft chinking of chains.

"What the hell…" the prisoner groaned, his voice cracking from disuse. It sounded to Charla as though he hadn't spoken in days and a thick layer of dust had gathered in his throat as a result. The muzzle muffled his words, restraining his jaw from opening fully and restricting the movement of his tongue.

"What are you doing here?" she asked casually, cocking her head to the side like a curious Death Hound puppy.

"Kid…" the dragon grunted, then blinked and stared at her as though just seeing her for the first time. His iron-grey eyes widened. "Kid! What the hell? What the heck are you doing here?"

"I asked first," Charla pouted.

"I'm a prisoner," he replied dryly, raising one paw as though to show off the iron manacles that bound him. "Can't you tell, kid? I don't have much of a choice. You, on the other paw… Do you even realise where you are?"

"Why couldn't the apes just kill you?" Charla asked, brushing his question aside like she would an irritating insect. His steely eyes flashed.

"I impressed Pev—the Commander," his answer was short, irritable, and hardly informative. "But what does it matter to a kid like you? You shouldn't even be here! If the apes knew…"

His sharp eyes roved over her curving horns and the ruby red of her scales, shining through the layer of mud she'd previously applied. Charla shifted uncomfortably, wary of his scrutinizing gaze.

"You're a prize," he grunted, before she could say anything. "Any younglings are. But with horns like that…"

"What about my horns?" Charla interrupted, suddenly defensive. The prisoner snorted.

"Don't you know, kid? There's a roaring trade for dragon horns and scales. Ivory…ivory is precious. Especially unmarred. Only the big generals can afford the best ivory, and you're wearing it on that pretty little head of yours. Not to mention your scales still haven't lost their hatchling sheen. You'd fetch a high price on the market. Commander Pev would kill for horns like yours."

Disgust wrinkled Charla's snout and she took a step back, suddenly feeling protective of her scales and the ivory horns that graced her head. She had heard the apes speaking before about something like that and known that many of their weapons had been carved from dragon bone, but somehow she had always subconsciously denied it. Horrid as it was, she had always known what the apes did with dragon prisoners and casualties of war—where else could they have gotten their dragon-scale armour and helmets decorated with dragon horns? A brief image surfaced in the forefront of her mind—of her own horns mounted on a metal helm, worn on the head of a brutish ape. A shudder crept down her spine.

"What about you?" Charla shot back swiftly in an effort to hide her discomfort. The green dragon twisted his head, jangling his chain, and she got a better look at his horns. They jutted backwards from behind his eyes at a slight upwards tilt, only to angle sharply back down again on either side of his neck. A second pair curved down from the back of his jaw.

"Mind wouldn't fetch much of a price. A lowly soldier would be able to afford them." Unlike the smooth ivory of her own horns, his were a lustreless brown and marred in so many places by scratches, cracks and chips that she could not find the smallest patch of smooth surface.

Her gaze shifted back to the ropey scars that warped his scales. "Guess your scales wouldn't be any more valuable, either, huh?"

"Right. And lacking any value means there's no rush to kill me," he replied smoothly, leaning down to stare into her eyes. "But you better high-tail it out of here before the Commander makes you a part of his collection."

Charla hesitated, glancing uneasily back towards the main bunker. In the glow of moonlight, she could see the night patrol were finally at their posts. It was a small miracle that they had not spotted her, but no doubt they were more worried about what was outside the camp, rather than in it. Her expression suddenly defiant, she looked back at the prisoner.

"What's your name?" she asked, as though his warnings were of little consequence.

He considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You've got spunk, kid. I'll give you that. But it takes more than spunk to survive in this world."

"What's your _name_?" Charla repeated insistently, impatience causing her tail to twitch.

"Lance," the prisoner grunted at last, shifting uncomfortably with a clanking of chains that put Charla on edge. "Happy, kid? Now get out of here."

"No. And my name isn't kid, it's Charla."

Lance groaned, his eyes sliding shut for a moment. "Have you got a death wish, kid? What are you even doing here? What do you want?"

"I need information," Charla replied shortly, suddenly serious. Lance cracked an eye open.

"What, you think I've got what you're after?"

"I think—I _know_ the apes do. And maybe you've overheard them, Mr. Prisoner. Do you know the Well of Souls?"

"Never heard of it," Lance grunted, and Charla's wings drooped ever-so-slightly. He sighed and added, "If anyone knows anything, the commander's your best bet. But how you're going to get him to talk without him squishing you into dragon-patty with that giant hammer of his, I don't know. Kid, you should just get out of here before you end up like me. Or more likely you'll be lucky and they'll kill you on sight for those ivory horns of yours."

"How did you end up like this, anyway?" Charla asked, yet again brushing his warnings aside. "How long have you been here?"

Lance shrugged, "Two…three weeks? It's hard to keep track. I should have escaped sooner, but… Guess I overestimated myself."

"What?" Charla cocked an eyebrow, looking him over curiously. "If you _could_ have escaped earlier, why didn't you?"

"Pride," he replied bluntly, without a single inkling of shame or embarrassment. "I killed a few apes, the commander got the better of me when I was distracted and chained me up here as punishment. Said he was going to kill me once his little soldiers were finished 'playing' with me. They threw rocks and jabbed me with spears for the first few days. I could have escaped immediately, but I wanted to prove something—prove to this big, dumb ape that I could take whatever punishment he threw at me and repay it ten-fold. He seemed to find it funny—kept me alive longer than he was going to. The little apes got bored eventually. I kept telling myself—just one more day and then I'll escape. Just one more day."

"Then, before I knew it, two weeks passed and I'm weak from hunger," he raised a paw to his stomach at that point, though the chains hindered his movement. "I left it too long. Now I don't have the strength to bust myself out. Kind of stupid, really."

Charla stared, "You mean…you're only chained up here because you were too proud to break yourself free on the first day?"

"Something like that," Lance muttered airily. Another taut silence passed between them before he glanced at Charla again, as though he had forgotten she was there. "Still here, kid? Might as well go deliver yourself to the commander if you're so eager to become his newest headdress."

But Charla was deep in thought and didn't respond until almost a whole minute later. When she did finally raise her head, Lance was staring intently at her as though expecting her to erupt in flames any moment. She wondered what he was thinking.

"If I busted you out of those chains," she said slowly, "would you help me find the information I'm looking for?"

"No." His answer was so quick, so definite, that for a moment Charla was completely lost for words. She stared at him, mouth half-open, utterly stunned.

"What?" she stammered, moments later. Lance blinked slowly.

"No," he repeated bluntly. "The only one who's going to bust me out of here is me."

"But you _can't_!"

"Then I'll die here."

Charla was stunned. Never in her twelve years of life had she heard anyone speak of their own death with such blunt conviction. He didn't seem upset or scared in any way—merely accepting of this cold and unavoidable fact. He would die. One way or another, he would die.

"I-I don't understand…"

"It's simple," Lance said. His voice was calm. "I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out or I'll die trying. It's a matter of pride."

"_Pride_ was what got you into this mess!" Charla argued hotly, suddenly angry. She wasn't sure where this irritation came from. Was it worry for this dragon she had only just met, or anger that anyone could be so apathetic towards their own _life_? Was he willing to die here, merely because he was too proud to accept help?

"Kid, why should it matter to you? I'm just—"

"My name isn't kid! And you shouldn't be in such a rush to _die_!" The words exploded out of her before she could stop them and the sound of her voice sounded magnified in the relative silence of night. Charla blanched almost as soon as the words left her lips, and her legs tensed to run. Lance looked sharply at her.

"Get out of here," he growled, just as the sound of the approaching night patrol reached their ears. "Now!"

"But…"

"Go!" Lance snarled, iron eyes flashing like his manacles in the moonlight. "And don't come back! This place isn't safe for a young dragon."

Charla could hear the apes now, grumbling to each other as they rounded the main bunker to check on the prisoner. It was only a matter of seconds before they would spot her, and then the whole encampment would know of her presence. With a last fleeting, frightened glance at Lance, she turned and scampered into the dark bushes that surrounded the ape camp. Her ivory tailblade had just flicked out of sight when the apes approached the lone prisoner and stood wondering whether they had imagined the noises they'd heard. Had they been any more thorough, they might have noticed the small pawprints that led from the centre of the camp into the wilderness.

* * *

The trees would have been smart to jump out of the way as Charla stormed through the forest, eyes blazing and nostrils smoking. She didn't even try to be subtle now that she was well away from the ape camp—she almost wanted them to hear her, just so she could imagine the looks on their faces as they wondered what sort of ferocious beast haunted the forest this night. She wasn't even sure where this blazing anger came from, but every scale burned like fire and her chest was tight with the uncontrollable urge to scream her fury at the world. Moments later, she stopped holding it back.

The sound that left her lips was caught somewhere between a scream and a full-throated roar that reverberated throughout the forest and startled the nocturnal woodland creatures that inhabited the trees. A tongue of flame leapt from her jaws and in pure frustration she slammed her paw into the trunk of a nearby tree. Her ivory claws left deep smoking gouges in the bark. Snorting heavily, she rampaged through the undergrowth, slashing low-growing plants with the curved blade on the end of her tail and leaving a trail of burned vegetation in her wake. The creatures of the night kept well away from the enraged dragoness and her trail of destruction.

As soon as her anger had come, however, it faded away and left her standing awkwardly in a small clearing, panting heavily. Her tantrum over, Charla took a moment to extract the leaves that had become skewered on her tailblade and talons and sat down heavily in the leaf-litter. For several moments she just sat there, staring blankly at her forepaws, her chest rising and falling with exhausted breaths. Eventually, her eyes slid shut and she expelled a calming sigh, slowing the frantic hammering of her heart against her ribcage.

"Stupid," she muttered to her paws. "Stupid, stupid."

Her head tilted back and she found herself staring at the red moon peaking through a gap in the canopy, washing her scales with a tint that almost matched their natural hue. Its pocked, flawed surface reminded her of the scars that criss-crossed Lance's scales and a deep scowl marred her expression. Why was he so loathe so accept her help? Why was he so eager to die?

Why should it bother her so much?

Charla almost didn't want to care. She hadn't come to this forest intending to rescue any prisoners. She had come to interrogate the apes, to find the information she needed and continue on her way as soon as possible. There was no time for detours or distractions. She was on a mission and she couldn't afford to lose concentration. Not now.

But, all the same…

She had never been around dragons before—not for any length of time. Never having had a chance to know what it was like to live amongst her own species meant that Charla did not miss it. She had been grateful for what she had and never yearned for the touch of another dragon, whether friend or family. But now, now that she had finally met another dragon, she felt strangely compelled to stay by him—to help him, even if he didn't want that help. There was a kinship they shared that went far beyond any she had ever known—a kinship only shared by those who wore the same scales. It was not friendship, but something else entirely.

'_These are dangerous times for dragons. If they want to survive, they need to stick together.'_

Charla wondered why she remembered his words now of all times. It caused a bittersweet pang somewhere deep inside her that she could not shift. But it also made up her mind. Whether Lance wanted her help or not, he was a dragon just like her, and therefore it was their duty to stick together. Even if it was only long enough for her to find the information she needed and for him to escape death row. Brimming with conviction, Charla got back to her feet.

It was time to go hunting.


	4. No Escape without Explosions

**A/N: This chapter is a week late, but I was busy last weekend. :P Thanks to Selvah for acting as reserve beta and editing this chapter, and of course to all you reviewers for being awesome and reviewing. :D Please enjoy this very action-y chapter.**

**Also, Pevmuffin is a legit ape name. Selvah can vouch for me. xD**

**Chapter 3.**

**No Escape without Explosions**

The dull thud of something hitting the ground startled Lance out of a half-doze. His eyes snapped open to find Charla staring back at him, a fat vole carcass between her paws. It was the night after their meeting and Charla had spent much of the day before hunting whatever prey she could find—saving some for Lance and filling her own starving belly with the rest. She had a stash buried near the outskirts of the camp, hidden from whatever prying eyes might find it. Lance's eyes narrowed almost instantly.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" he growled. "I thought I told you to beat it!"

"I know, but I decided I didn't want to," Charla said brightly, a certain defiance in her forest-green eyes. "I brought you something to eat."

A muffled groan left Lance's muzzled snout and he shook his head, "Kid, I told you. I don't want help."

"No, you told me you wanted to bust yourself free. You said nothing about helping you get stronger to do that." Charla's eyes twinkled with defiant amusement and Lance paused to consider her. She thought she could see a smirk twisting his lips through the gaps in the sides of his iron muzzle.

"All right, fine," he said slowly and this time she was sure she could hear the smirk in his voice. "But how do you expect me to eat that…when I'm wearing _this_?"

He gestured with one chained paw to his muzzle and looked meaningfully at her. Charla hesitated, but only briefly. After casting a nervous glance around her to make sure the night patrol still hadn't noticed her presence, she crept closer to the chained Lance and hissed a quiet order. "Stay still."

When he froze rigid as though turned to stone, Charla raised her forepaws to his shoulders and craned her neck so that her snout could reach the back of his head. Her teeth soon found the leather strap fastened under his horns. Lance remained stock-still beneath her, though she could feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing under her paws.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. She shushed him with a quiet hissing noise and bit down on the strap, grimacing at the taste of leather on her tongue. It was tough and hard to bite through, but a combination of the strap's tautness and Charla's sharp incisors made the job that much easier. A soft snap announced her success and she stepped away quickly, mouthing in disgust to get rid of the taste of leather.

Feeling the tautness of the leather strap disappear, Lance shook his head sharply and let the loose muzzle slip from his snout. It hit the earth with a dull thud and he yawned widely, his jaw loosening with a loud _pop_. After opening and closing his jaw a few times to work the muscles that had become tight with disuse, Lance rewarded Charla with a quick grin.

"You have no idea how uncomfortable it is, not being able to open your mouth for weeks. I owe you, kid."

Charla pushed the vole carcass towards him, "Take it."

Lance glanced from her to the vole and then stretched his neck out until the chain reached the end of its length and stopped him before he could reach it. His steely eyes roved up to Charla's face. "I'm going to need a little help here, kid."

Hiding a grin, Charla hooked her forepaw under the vole and tossed it skyward. Lance snatched it up in his jaws before it could fall back to earth and it was gone in a few quick bites. He sat licking fur and gore from his snout as Charla looked around to check on the night patrol.

"The guards seem pretty laid**-**back around here. Or they're both blind and deaf," she muttered wryly.

"They're bored," Lance said, shrugging. "This camp's been here for almost a month now, from what I've heard. Apparently they're one of the biggest frontiers this side of the mainland, meant to stop any dragons trying to pass through. But they haven't seen any action in weeks. I provided them with some entertainment, but only for a little while. I'd expect a mutiny any day now, if they weren't all so afraid of the commander."

"What'd he do to make them so scared, anyway?"

"No one wants to mess with his hammer," Lance grinned. "Would you?"

Charla snorted and smirked, "I wouldn't even give him a chance to use it."

"Strong words, kid. Where'd you come from, anyway?" He examined her curiously, but she didn't meet his gaze.

"If I keep bringing you prey, you can bust yourself out of here and help me find the information I need," she said, avoiding his question blatantly. Lance raised an eye-ridge. "Deal?"

Lance stared intently at her for a few unnerving moments, but eventually straightened up and nodded stiffly. "Fine. Guess we've all got to make compromises sometimes. But the only one who'll be breaking these chains is me."

"Suit yourself." Charla grinned brightly, but the grin dropped from her face when she heard the unintelligible mutterings of the night guards on patrol. They were shifting closer.

"I should go," she muttered to Lance, lowering her body to the ground in an attempt to remain unseen. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Don't go anywhere."

"Like I can," Lance growled, but Charla barely heard him as she scampered away and disappeared into the night.

* * *

The next night was much the same. Charla snuck into the camp, this time with a large woodland rat clutched between her jaws, and spent some time exchanging idle banter with Lance. She did not stay for long, however, because this night she had another mission—find the commander. The sooner she knew more about him, the easier it would be to get the information she needed as soon as Lance was strong enough to shatter his chains. Leaving with Lance's warnings ringing in her ears, she crept stealthily through the main camp towards what she assumed to be Commander Pev's private bunker.

It wasn't as big as the main bunker and was situated near the edge of the encampment. Charla was just nearing it when she heard the sound of a metal door grating open. Her quick reflexes saved her life as she leapt into the shadow of a nearby awning just as a large ape rounded the corner of a small metal bunker. He strode towards the Commander's quarters, passing Charla's hiding place without so much as a glance, and her eyes followed his every step.

Heart hammering madly, Charla crept after him as quietly as she could, placing every paw with slow, deliberate movements. She flattened herself in a shadow again when the ape stopped in front of the Commander's bunker and knocked loudly on the metal door. It swung inwards almost immediately and Charla caught a brief glance of the commander himself—still over a head taller than the other ape—before both of them disappeared back inside. Eyes narrowing, Charla slunk closer.

Light seeped through a small window in the side of the bunker, and its flickering quality told Charla that it must have been from either a fireplace or a lantern. Holding her breath subconsciously, she crept up to the window and peered uneasily over the sill. Through the warped surface of clear resin fitted into the window frame, Charla could make out a warm room decorated lavishly with brightly coloured throw-rugs and wall-hangings. It was hard to tell through the resin, but Charla thought she could see a dragon's head mounted on the wall, with proud, arching horns. Her stomach churned with nausea.

Her eyes quickly sought out the two figures, slightly blurred through the resin, facing each other in the middle of the room. Suddenly, one of them moved towards the window and Charla ducked quickly out of sight, holding her breath as her heart beat a violent tattoo against her chest. There was the strange scraping sound of the window sliding open and then a deep voice reached her ears.

"…warm night tonight. Summer is on its way."

"So it is, Commander Pev," said another voice, slightly less deep but bearing a harsh, gravelly quality. "But if I may be so bold, why have you called me here?"

The sound of heavy footsteps walking away from the window—Charla didn't dare to try looking through it again—and the deep voice answered. "An unusual time, I know. But I have just received an urgent message from the king himself."

"Gaul?" the gravelly voiced asked, at the exact time the same name slipped venomously from between Charla's teeth.

"You know we should speak his name with nothing but the greatest respect," the deep voice—which, Charla assumed, belong to the commander—replied icily.

"Forgive me, Commander. What news has Master Gaul sent?"

Charla shifted slightly, listening eagerly, intent on not missing a single word that was spoken by the apes.

"Not much," the commander replied, "but we have new orders. It's time for us to leave this dragon-forsaken forest. News is that there's been troubling activity around the old Dragon Temple. Disturbing rumours, too…"

"Rumours, Commander?" the owner of the gravelly voice sounded just as curious as Charla felt.

"The swamp patrol reported to Mistress Cynder not long ago. Rumours say they ran afoul of a special kind of dragon. A sort supposed to be extinct. Or so they say. The king isn't pleased."

"What are our orders?"

"The king wants new patrols surrounding the Dragon Temple and Swamp. We're the best apes for the job, so he says." Charla detected a note of pride in the commander's voice. "We're to move out first thing in the morning."

"And the prisoner?" Charla froze as still as stone, a sudden iciness coursing through her veins.

"I want him executed at dawn tomorrow. His scales won't fetch much of a price on the market…"

Charla didn't hear any more, she was already running. By the time she got back to Lance, her breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps and her chest was tight, even though she had only run a short distance. Without a second thought, and not even stopping to take note of Lance's confusion at her sudden appearance, she flung herself at the chains that bound him to the metal pole in the ground. Her jaws fastened around the iron links and she bit down hard, shaking her head roughly as though to kill a stubborn piece of prey.

"Kid! Kid, what are you doing?" Lance exclaimed, jerking his paw and yanking the chain from her mouth. "What's got into you?"

Charla looked up at him frantically, her eyes dilated and chest heaving, "We have to get you out of here! Right now!"

"Kid, I told you," Lance groaned, "the only one who's gonna break these chains is me. I thought we already made our deal. I'm not strong enough yet. Another few days—another few meals—is all I need."

"We don't _have_ another few days!" Charla exclaimed, her voice reaching an unnaturally high pitch. "They're going to kill you at dawn! _This_ dawn!"

"_What_?"

"Just let me get you out of these chains! We gotta go!"

A deep growl echoed at the base of Lance's throat and he ground his teeth together in frustration. "Damn it. These apes have the worst timing. Just another few days…"

"Help me…help me break these chains," Charla insisted, pinning one under her paws and reaching down to take it between her teeth. Lance hesitated, torn between pride and the sudden urge to continue living. Apparently that urge won out, because suddenly he lurched forward and jerked the chains to their limit with a sharp clatter. The sturdy metal pole held him back and he dug his claws into the ground, pulling with all his might.

"Damn…it…" he growled between clenched teeth, eyes half shut in concentration as the iron manacle around his neck pressed against his throat. His claws scored deep gashes in the ground as he tried to pull himself free, and the manacles chaffed his worn scales. "If I was…just…a bit…stronger…!"

Charla bit down hard on the chain in her mouth and concentrated on the natural flames that churned in her veins. Smoke began to billow from between her teeth as she super-heated the links in her mouth, glad that her natural element gave her high tolerance to extreme heat. The iron links began to glow red and more smoke began to pour, thick and fast. Tears were blurring her eyes and refusing to fall, and she could hardly see anything through the haze. With a crunching sound, her jaws snapped shut and the chain shattered, falling to the ground in two halves. Charla staggered backwards, spitting molten metal from her mouth.

"Brilliant," Lance grunted, still straining against the remaining chains, his left forepaw now free. "Five to go."

But as Charla moved for the next one the sound of yelling apes reached their ears and she spun around in alarm. Evidently, the smoke, fire and sounds of breaking chains had alerted the night patrol. Four apes were standing not far away, pointing at the dragons and gesturing wildly at each other. Two of them scurried away into the main bunker and one towards the commander's quarters, but the last drew his dragon-bone blade and charged Charla with an animalistic shriek. For a moment, Charla marvelled at his bravery—or was it stupidity?—before she met him charge for charge.

Her comet dash carried her hard into the chest of the charging ape and sent both of them tumbling across the ground. The ape's sword was flung from his hand and landed point-first in the dirt as its owner hit the earth and lay still, his chest caved in. Shaking her head dazedly, Charla spun away and cantered back to Lance, snatching up another chain without another word. He still hadn't ceased his efforts of pulling against the chains, but had made no other progress than to tear chasms in the dirt with his talons.

"Better make it quick," he grunted as the sound of frenzied apes reached them from inside the main bunker. "We're about to have company."

"I know," Charla muttered thickly around the chain, and once again began the process of superheating the metal. But she didn't get very far before the bunker's doors slammed open and a river of screeching apes streamed out. Charla shut her eyes tight, trying to focus on breaking the chain before they reached her. She could hear Lance panting, but it was almost drowned out by the howling of the apes.

"Dammit, kid!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Stop helping me and get out of here before you're killed!"

"No!" was what Charla tried to say, but all that came out was a strangled grunt as her jaws snapped shut and the second chain shattered. She spat the burning pieces of metal into the dirt and spun around to face the charging apes, just as the first leapt towards her. With a screech, she spun a full circle and buried her tailblade in the leaping ape's neck, bringing him into the ground. She yanked her tail free with a violent tug and turned to face the others, flames licking between her clenched teeth.

Another comet dash carried her straight into the centre of the howling mass of apes, knocking five down on the way and killing at least two of them. She spun a half circle, flames spewing from her jaws and keeping the screeching beasts at bay. A sword glanced across the bridge of her nose and she screeched in pain and repaid the owner of the blade with a fireball that exploded in his face. A guttural roar interrupted her and she turned in time to see Lance rear up and crush two apes between his freed front paws. Slashing another ape across the chest with her tailblade, Charla sprinted back to him and took a stance in front of him.

"You can't fight them while you're chained," she muttered, "so I'll hold them off while you free yourself."

"Great plan," Lance said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "apart from the fact that I can't break these chains."

Charla's reply was cut off by the sound of a deep, familiar, and very unwelcome voice that boomed over the screeches of the apes.

"The prisoner is trying to escape!" Commander Pev roared unnecessarily, raising his giant hammer above his head. "Kill them both! I want the red one in tact, but do what you will with the other!"

"Looks like Pevmuffin wants to join in," Charla snarled, a smirk weaving its way across her face. Lance stared incredulously at her.

"I don't know where you get these nicknames from, but he's more than a match for a kid like you!"

"Tell me that _after_ he's beaten me!" Charla called back as she charged through the throng of apes towards the commander, leaving a trail of flames in her wake. Lance groaned and resumed pulling against the chains, smacking apes away with his freed forepaws.

Charla leapt high when she cleared the smaller apes and neared the commander, snapping her wings out to give her lift. The massive ape saw her coming, but he was not quick enough to stop her before she barrelled into his chest, flaming forepaws first, and sprang off again. He staggered backwards, his steel-grey fur charred to the pink skin beneath, and a growl of fury left his low-slung mouth. Beady, ice-cold black eyes met Charla's as the commander regained his balance and hefted his giant hammer.

"You'll pay for that, dragon," he growled. "Your horns will make a fine helm and those scales of yours will fetch a high price back at the Well of Souls. How kind of you to deliver yourself to me."

Charla landed back on the ground nimbly and danced out of the way as the commander attempted to bring his hammer down on top of her. She skirted around behind his lumbering form and set his tunic alight with a well-placed blast of fire. As he whirled around to put it out, hammer swinging madly, she jumped backwards and met his dark eyes again.

"Where is it?" Charla snarled fiercely. "Where is the Well of Souls?"

"What?" the ape asked slowly, his voice dark and gravelly, for a moment lowering his hammer. Charla dug her claws into the dirt.

"Where is the Well of Souls?" she repeated furiously, but her only answer was the hefty thud of the hammer as it slammed into the ground where she had been but seconds ago. Dancing on the pads on her paws, Charla charged the commander with flames licking at the edges of her scales, leaping high to target his broad chest. But the massive ape was quicker this time, and he batted her out of the way with a swift but brutal backhand.

Charla hit the earth hard and felt the wind rush from her lungs. She lay gasping in the dirt and had but a moment to be glad it was not the hammer that had struck her before she was forced to roll out of the way before the heavy weapon could crush her bones. The resulting explosion of dirt peppered her scales as the hammer sank deep into the earth. Still gasping, she staggered backwards and tried to regain her breath, colours bursting behind her eyes. She could hear the roars of Lance, but could not see him through the throng of apes, and suddenly had the urge to get back to him. Growling, Charla leapt high to avoid the hammer once again and dove back into the melee of smaller apes.

"Coward!" Commander Pev roared, and Charla heard him throwing his own apes out of the way as he pursued her. "You _will_ die at my hands!"

"I don't think so!" Charla yelled over her shoulder and followed it up with a fireball that glanced off the massive hammer and rebounded into a group of shrieking apes where it exploded and sent them flying. As she ducked around another group, Lance came into view once more. He was rearing and bucking as much as the chains would allow, twisting as he tried to throw off the apes that were trying to clamber all over him. Blood was streaming down his scales from numerous nicks and scratches all over his body.

"Lance!" Charla yelled, pelting towards him without slowing down. "I brought help!"

The commander crashed after her and Lance's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you _mad_?"

"Possibly!" she called back. She leapt for the ape on Lance's back just as the commander swung his hammer. Charla barrelled into the ape and knocked them both into the dirt as the commander's hammer slammed into the link that connected one of the chains to the metal pole. Lance balked as his head was jerked backwards by the force, only to jerk forward again in almost the same instant as the chain broke and his neck was freed from its restraints. Now only his tail and back legs remained chained.

Charla leapt away from the ape she had been tussling with in the dirt, leaving him with a gaping hole in his chest and her with blood on her claws. Licking blood from a cut on her lip, she charged back towards the commander before he could swing his hammer at Lance. Again, she met his chest forepaws first and kicked off, causing the massive ape to stumble backwards. But he recovered before she reached the ground again and swung his hammer straight for her. Charla couldn't hold back the scream that left her lips as she twisted herself to the side to avoid the blow. It caught the tip of her wing and sent her spinning out of control, straight into the side of a nearby building.

"Kid!" she heard Lance yell as she lay dazed and half-conscious at the base of the wall. Groaning, Charla tried to raise her head, but the whole world spun and she found herself back on the ground again, trying to figure out which way was up. The heavy stomping of feet alerted her to the fact that her opponent was approaching.

"Kid! Get up!" Lance was yelling, but Charla could hardly hear him over the buzzing in her ears. "Spit fire at him! Do _something_!"

Charla's eyes snapped open suddenly and she hauled herself to her feet, ignoring the way the world spun around her and colours merged into one. A condensed ball of fire shot from her jaws before she had even tried to aim it, and she heard the roar as it seared through the night air towards its target—whatever that target was. Her eyes refocused and the world steadied just in time to see her fireball miss the commander by a mile and slam into an awning near the centre of camp. A sudden explosion rocked the entire encampment as a single fireball became a blazing inferno. It engulfed everything within a five metre radius and sent out a shockwave that knocked everyone else down. Charla was slammed back against the metal wall and a gasp left her lips as, for a second time, the air was forced from her lungs.

Coughing and spluttering, she staggered back to her feet and stared in disbelief as the giant fireball faded into the night. The sky was suddenly cloaked by billows of black smoke. Around her, the apes were staggering back to their feet—at least, those that hadn't been caught in the blast. Splinters of wood rained down from the sky and suddenly Charla understood.

"Dynamite," she breathed, and a wry grin split her face. The commander was hauling himself back to his feet, retrieving his hammer from where he had dropped it and looking utterly livid. Charla couldn't resist grinning in his face.

"It's never a good idea to leave dynamite lying around," she taunted. With a shriek of pure fury, the commander flung his hammer. It slammed into the ground as Charla leapt out of the way and the earth exploded around her, showering her with dirt and ash.

She raced back to Lance, snatching up a dragon-bone sword on the way and heating it between her teeth as she ran. The sword was red-hot by the time she reached Lance, and with a jerk of her head she sliced it straight through one of the remaining chains. Lance jerked forward, his left hind leg freed. Another swing and his other leg broke free, but Charla didn't get any further than that. The hammer slammed into the earth beside her, missing her by inches, but the resulting shock wave threw her off her feet and sent the dragon-bone blade spinning from her jaws.

"Damn it," Lance growled, tugging at his tail. "Damn apes, ruining everything. Kid! Explode something else!"

Dazed, Charla sat up and shook her head, trying to get her eyes back in focus. She could hear the commander running towards them, his every step shaking the ground, and the hammer was resting right beside Lance. Staggering to her feet, Charla faced the running commander and took aim—not at him, but at the kegs of dynamite she had just spotted under an awning behind him. Her fireball blazed a path through the air and the commander ducked out of the way. He straightened up grinning, only to falter when he saw the wide smirk on Charla's face. The massive ape didn't get a chance to turn around before another explosion, even bigger than the first, rocked the encampment.

Apes everywhere were thrown off their feet, and the commander himself flattened his bulk to the ground as splinters of wood and metal rained from the smoke-blackened skies. In the glow of the explosion, Charla could see that she had destroyed more than five buildings on that side of the camp. It was a strangely exhilarating feeling.

The shriek of metal and a sudden sharp _crack_ startled her out of her reverie, and she turned in time to see that Lance had managed to break the final chain on his own. The remnants of chains still dangled from the manacles that remained around his ankles, neck and tail, but he was free—after almost three weeks, free at last. Turning a wide grin on Charla, he gestured with a sharp jerk of his head.

"Let's get out of here before you blow anything else up!"

Grinning, Charla sprinted after him as he turned and bolted for the edge of the encampment and the relative safety of the surrounding forest. Commander Pev's indignant roar followed them as the two dragons left their enemies in tatters and smoke. Charla couldn't help stopping at the edge of the trees. She turned back to the camp, spotted what she had been looking for, and looked to Lance for permission.

"One more?"

Lance grinned. "I don't see why not."

Fireball met dynamite as the night was lit for a third time with a fiery explosion that put the others to shame. As debris rained from the skies, Charla and Lance disappeared into the darkness of the forest, Charla's final farewell hanging on the breeze.

"See ya, Pevmuffin!"

Laughing, they cantered into the unknown, just as the first rays of dawn touched the smoke-riddled sky.


	5. Dragons Stick Together

**A/N: Bit of a short chappy this time. Was originally going to be combined with chapter 5, but it ended up too long so I split it. Again, thanks oodles and oodles to my lovely reviewers. :D I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Chapter 4.**

**Dragons Stick Together**

Charla peered closely at the thick iron manacle, its formally smooth surface now decorated by countless scratches from her impatient claws. With an irritable scowl, she leaned forward and tried to take it in her teeth, but it was nestled too close to the green scales of Lance's neck and she could barely scrape it with her incisors. Lance shifted under her as she pressed the tip of her snout into his neck, trying in vain to reach the manacle. Frustrated, Charla sat back and snapped at him.

"Stay still!" she said fiercely, tugging on the chain still attached to his metal collar. Lance growled and jerked it out of her grip with a twist of his head.

"It's no use," he muttered, batting at the broken chain irritably. "I'm stuck with them."

Charla sighed and sat heavily on her haunches. "If only we had a key."

Lance glanced wryly at her, "Didn't think of that before you blew everything up, did we?"

It was mid-morning and the sun was inching its way higher into the sky, where wispy clouds were drifting lazily along. Lance and Charla had left the forest behind and now found themselves wandering through an open plain of dry grasses and rocky hills. Shallow mountains covered the horizon, and in the far distance, the ghostly outlines of a much taller mountain range could only just be seen. Once they had put enough distance between them and whatever apes had survived the battle back at the encampment, the two dragons had stopped for a brief break. But despite their best efforts, they found themselves at a loss for how to free Lance of his manacles.

"I also didn't get the information I needed," Charla pointed out glumly. Her expression brightened moments later, like the sun had just moved out from behind a cloud. "But we're alive, right? That's something."

Lance raised an eye-ridge, "Guess that's one way to look on the bright side."

He stood up and stretched out his limbs, glaring at the chains that tangled around his paws as he did so. They clattered noisily against the flat rock the two dragons had stopped to rest on.

"If I'm going to be stuck with these things, think you could at least help me get these chains off?" Lance suggested. Charla nodded and got back to her feet, padding over to him and lifting her forepaws up to his shoulder. She craned her head to reach the manacle around his neck, muttering as she did so.

"Stay still this time. This isn't exactly easy." Her jaws snapped shut at the base of the chain, as close as she could get to the manacle, and the process of super-heating it began. Minutes later, she flung the broken chain away and spat the broken pieces of molten metal from her mouth. Lance flexed his neck several times, wincing at the hot surface of the manacle against his scales.

"That burns, kid," he grunted, but Charla just rolled her eyes.

"Do you want the chains or not?"

Lance scowled but said nothing more as Charla moved down to the manacles on his forepaws. Approximately a quarter of an hour later, several pieces of broken chain littered the grass around the rock and Lance stood looking a little less like an escaped prisoner and more like a dragon with an odd sense of fashion. He pawed irritably at the collar around his neck.

"These I can deal with," he said, shaking a manacled forepaw. "But this…feels like it's trying to choke me."

Charla shrugged apologetically, "Can't do anything about that, I'm afraid. Guess you're stuck with it."

"I'll get used to it." With a mighty yawn, Lance stretched his wings out and raised his head to the sun, warming his dark green scales. Charla eyed him scrutinisingly, taking in the old scars and the fresh wounds that criss-crossed his scales like spider webs. Most of the injuries he had received the night before were minor and he hardly seemed to acknowledge them. Charla assumed he was used to such wounds.

"Up for a hunt, kid?" he asked suddenly, interrupting her musings. Grinning, Charla jumped to her feet.

"Let's do it."

* * *

Evening was cold on the grasslands, but the warm glow of a fire chased the icy shadows away as two dragons lazed in the mouth of a shallow cave. Charla had started the campfire and it now blazed merrily between them, washing their scales in orange light and throwing dancing shadows on the walls. Between their paws lay the carcasses of two large rabbits, picked clean of flesh and fur and leaving only stark white bones on the cavern floor. Lance was picking his teeth with a claw when a sudden thought reached Charla.

"Hey, Lance, do dragons eat hare?"

The green dragon paused, licked a morsel of rabbit from his snout, and met Charla's inquisitive gaze. "Hare?"

"Yeah, you know, kind of like rabbits but bigger," Charla gestured with her paws, measuring the size of an imaginary hare against the remains of the rabbit she had just eaten. "Not as fat, though. Kind of…lanky."

Lance glanced down at his own rabbit carcass, as though imagining it was a hare. Shrugging, he looked up again, "Dunno. Never eaten a hare myself. At least, not that I can remember. Why?"

"Oh…no reason."

He eyed her curiously for another few moments, noticing the mild amusement dancing in her bright eyes. Smirking, he looked back into the flames of the campfire and kicked the remains of his rabbit carcass into it. Charla followed his example seconds later.

"You're a strange one, kid," he said as they watched the flames consume all that remained of their prey. Charla glanced at him and noticed his normally grey eyes looked vividly orange in the flickering light. The firelight also threw something else into sharp relief—something she hadn't noticed before. A thin ropey scar stretched from the base of his left horn, down across his face, and ended low on the opposite jaw. It just barely missed his left eye. She couldn't help wondering how he had sustained such a horrific wound, but decided against asking.

"So are you," she said instead, and was pleased to see the smirk that tugged at his mouth. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"That's…a bit of a long story," Lance said hesitantly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Pretty far away. It's been a while since I've seen home. I don't even know if I'd still call it that. What about you?"

Charla replied with a lopsided smile, thought there was a sort of wistful sadness in her eyes. "Mine's a long story, too. It's been a long time since I've had anywhere I'd call home."

"How old are you?" Lance asked moments later and Charla looked up in surprise.

"Twelve. I think."

His iron-grey eyes darkened suddenly, to her great confusion. It was a few moments before he replied, and when he did Charla had the impression that he was choosing his words carefully.

"Twelve years ago was the Year of the Dragon. You're not…I mean, you can't have been born then. That isn't possible."

Charla stared hard at him, a tangle of confusion and offence writhing somewhere deep inside her. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about this—or, more importantly, why he would say such a thing. What did he mean by that? She was almost certain it had been twelve years since the hatching of her egg. That was what _he_ had told her, and he wouldn't lie to her.

"Why?" she asked tensely, eyes narrowing. Lance open his mouth to answer, frowned, and closed it again. A tense silence passed between them before he finally spoke again.

"Twelve years ago, in the Year of the Dragon, the Dragon Temple was attacked," he said slowly, his expression guarded. "All of the eggs were smashed. Every dragon that was meant to hatch that year died that night. You wouldn't be here if that was the case. I mean, unless you weren't at the temple…"

He trailed off looking awkward, confusion twisting his expression. Charla kneaded the rock as she thought his words over, considering them. An odd feeling of relief had replaced the uncomfortable turmoil that had been boiling inside of her only moments ago. His words were not news to her; she had heard this tale before. She knew what had happened that night, of the fate that had befallen the other eggs. But most importantly, she knew what had happened to her egg that night.

"I know," she said bluntly, smiling slightly, "but I know I hatched that year."

Charla didn't elaborate and for a long time Lance just stared at her, as though trying to decide whether to believe her or not. Eventually he shrugged and looked away into the campfire, a tiredness sweeping over him as he watched the mesmerising, dancing flames.

"Guess I'll just have to take your word for it," he said at length, his voice weary. "No one really knows exactly what happened that night, anyway. You might be a living miracle, kid. Who knows?"

"I know," Charla whispered, but she wasn't sure if Lance heard her over the spitting of the flames. Silence claimed them, but the crackling of the fire continued even as the darkness deepened around them.

* * *

Pale dawn sunlight crept over a pile of dark ashes and charred wood as two dragons slept on through the sunrise. The fire had burnt itself out overnight, and tiny ashes were whisked away on the morning breeze like dark flecks of snow. It wasn't until her scales grew almost uncomfortably warm from the sunlight on her back that Charla stirred and awoke. She cracked an eye open, squinted until they adjusted to the light, and then noted with mild surprise that Lance was still there.

His large green body was stretched out across the rocks across the other side of the burnt out campfire, and judging from the steady rise and fall of his flanks, he was still asleep. Stretching, Charla pushed herself up and glanced at the world outside the mouth of the cave. It was another clear sort of day, with a substantial wind that curled the clouds into wisps in the sky. Yellowed grasses danced across the grasslands and a nearby rocky hill crept skywards in a feeble attempt to reach the clouds and call itself a mountain.

Charla's movement seemed to have awakened her companion, as Lance suddenly stirred from his sleep with a protesting groan. His grey eyes flickered open, only for him to cover them again with a paw when they were assaulted by light. He scowled when the cold metal on his ankle nipped at the scales of his snout, and removed his paw from his face.

"Sun's up too early," he yawned, rising to his feet with a long stretch of his forelegs. "It always is."

Charla considered him with amusement, eyes twinkling in the morning light. "No one said you had to wake up. But I've got to keep moving. There's got to be some more apes around here somewhere…"

"Don't know where you've been for the past twelve years, kid, but there are apes _everywhere_," Lance cut in when she trailed off, giving her an odd look. He padded to her side and took in their surroundings, just as she had done moments ago. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was another camp just beyond that hill. Why are you looking for apes, anyway? Usually the smart thing to do is avoid them."

"I'm trying to get somewhere," Charla explained vaguely, jumping down the jagged staircase of rocks that led up from the grass to the cave they had spent the night in. When she reached the bottom, she paused and turned around to look back up at Lance. The grass was almost as tall as she was, brushing the scales just below her shoulders. "The apes will know the way."

"Where?" Lance called down.

"I told you," Charla said, exasperated. "The Well of Souls."

"Right," the green dragon grunted, descending down to the grass a lot slower than she had, "whatever that is. Exactly how you're going to get the apes to talk, though, is beyond me."

Snorting, she shook her head, "It doesn't matter. I'll find my way there, with or without the apes' help."

Charla waited until Lance was standing level with her—the grass only tickled his underbelly—before adding, "I guess this is goodbye, then. Maybe I'll see you again one day. Maybe not. Good luck!"

Smiling a little awkwardly, she turned and began to wade her way through the grass, not waiting for a response. But she'd hardly taken a few steps before his voice called her back.

"Hey, kid, wait up." She heard the swish of grasses as he stepped after her and stopped just inches from the tip of her tailblade. "I can't just let a kid like you go off on your own."

Rolling her eyes, Charla turned around and gave him her best 'I know what I'm doing' look. "I've been surviving on my own for the past two weeks. I think I can handle myself."

"Only two weeks?" Lance pointed out and Charla could have slapped herself. How could she let that slip so easily? Eyes bright with curiosity, Lance took another step forward and she fought the urge to take one step back. "So you had someone with you before. Or did you run away from home?"

Charla looked pointedly away, cheeks burning, "It doesn't matter. But I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. You don't have to stick around just to baby me."

She turned away again, this time with a rather vicious swing that caused her tailblade to sever the heads of several grasses. But she didn't even get the chance to take another step before a heavy paw descended on her tail and pinned it to the ground. Fuming, Charla turned a death glare on the green dragon.

"Kid, I can't let you go alone," Lance said, ignoring the look on her face. "I've been travelling alone for a lot longer than you have, and believe me, it isn't easy. We live in dangerous times. It's not about being capable or being able to take care of yourself—it's about knowing your limits and knowing when it's safer to travel in numbers. Besides, you saved my life. If you hadn't showed up when you did, those apes probably would have had me executed by now."

"If there's one thing I hate," he continued, releasing Charla's tail from under his paw, "it's owing someone a debt. I always repay my debts. So I'm not deserting you, kid. At least not until I've repaid what I owe you. We clear?"

Charla narrowed her eyes at him, as though trying to root out a lie or, at least, a half-truth. But there was only sincerity—reluctant sincerity—in his expression, and suddenly she felt a whole lot less defensive. A smile crawled its way onto her face and she turned around fully to face him, eyes gleaming.

"You really want to come along? And not just because you don't think I can handle myself?" there was undisguised hope in her voice and something else akin to excitement. Lance smirked.

"Kid, I _know_ you can take care of yourself if what you did back at the forest is any indication. But dragons have to stick together, right? Come on." He extended a paw towards her and Charla saw the pad was as black as his curving talons. Her smile turned into a grin and she extended her own paw to meet his. The soft pink of her pad met his and for a brief moment the tips of their claws dug into each other's scales.

"Right," she said, brimming with sudden confidence. "I guess you can come along."

"Good," Lance said as their paws parted. Then he bared his teeth in a taunting smirk and added, "Because you wouldn't last a day out there alone."

"Hey!" Charla yelled as he sped past her, brushing grasses out of the way with the massive black spade on the end of his tail. She turned and gave chase, trying not to smile as the sound of his taunting laughter drifted back to her.

By the time they reached the base of the rocky almost-mountain, Charla was out of breath. She'd had to push her way through the grasses, some of which were even taller than she was, and had struggled just to keep up with Lance. With his taller stature he hadn't been bothered at all by the yellowed grass and he stood tall beside her, breathing lightly. Charla couldn't help but glare at him, despite the grin on her face.

"That was terrible," she panted, sitting down heavily on a rock to catch her breath. "_You're_ terrible!"

"Still beat you, kid," Lance said, smirking. Leaving Charla to catch her breath, he began the slow climb to the top of the hill, leaping from rock to rock where he could, but never taking to the sky. Grimacing, Charla trailed after him once she had stopped panting. With her smaller, lither body, she had caught up to him in no time.

"Why don't we just fly over?" she asked impatiently, slipping on a rock and only just catching herself before she could crash back down to the bottom again. But the instant she spread her maroon wings, Lance raised a paw to her chest and shook his head.

"I'll say it again—I don't know where you've been these last twelve years, but this is ape territory. Everywhere is. And where there's apes, there's Dreadwings." His eyes glinted sternly. "Unless you're well-versed in aerial combat, we'd best stick to the ground."

"What makes you think I can't fight in the air?" Charla quipped, but heeded his advice regardless and folded her wings back against her flanks.

"There's a difference between fighting and fighting well," Lance replied grimly as she brushed passed him and continued the climb to the top of the hill. "Aerial combat takes a long time to master—a lot longer than your twelve measly years."

"And I suppose _you're_ a master of it," Charla shot back sarcastically, pulling a face as she leapt up onto a tall outcrop without waiting for him to catch up. Lance dragged himself over a particularly jagged rock with much less grace, grimacing.

"Hardly. I've got seven years more experience than you, at least, but I'm still stronger on the ground." He bunched his hind legs and leapt for the tall outcrop Charla had been standing on moments before. She had already climbed higher and watched him from above as he struggled to pull himself over the lip of the outcrop, talons digging into rock.

"Guess it helps that you're an earth dragon, huh?" she called just before she turned away. But she paused and looked back again almost instantly. "You _are_ an earth dragon, right? I mean, I think they're usually green."

Lance just grunted in reply and Charla took this to mean yes. Turning away from the bulkier dragon's attempts to keep up, she reached the top of the hill with a dozen more leaps between outcrops. Climbing up onto the apex of a jutting rock at the top of the hill, Charla wrapped her tail around the rough stone to steady herself and gazed out over the land.

The grasslands stretched as far as she could see, low hills and almost-mountains rising from the earth like waves on the ocean frozen in time. The ghostly mountain range in the far distance didn't seem any closer than it had the day before, but Charla thought she could see dark shapes circling in the sky above the horizon. They were tiny and indistinct, but she had a feeling they would be much larger close up—Dreadwings, no doubt, just as Lance had said. The clouds were wispy and few, and a strong wind threatened to throw her off her rocky perch, but she held tight with tail and claws, waiting for Lance.

The green dragon joined her minutes later, panting from the strenuous climb, and a few new scratches on his soft underbelly. Pawing sweat from where it had rolled into his eyes, Lance moved to Charla's side and followed her gaze. Perched upon the rock, she was just a head taller than him and he had to look up to meet her eyes when she addressed him.

"Think those are Dreadwings?" she asked, pointing only with her eyes. Lance followed her gaze to the dark shapes circling in the distant sky.

"Likely," he replied grimly. Nodding, Charla stood up precariously on the peak of her rock and spread her wings.

"Where there's apes, there's Dreadwings," she said, echoing Lance's earlier words. "Where there's Dreadwings, there's apes."

"What did I just tell you?" Lance muttered before she had a chance to leap skyward. She pulled an exasperated face.

"I _know_, but they're so far away! Come on, we'll land before we reach them!"

"No way," Lance said bluntly, expression stern. "They'll see us coming and then we'll be in trouble. Walking will take longer, but it's safer."

"Remind me why I let you come along?" Charla mumbled. She turned a pleading gaze on him, widening her eyes to an almost impossible size as though she intended to melt him with cuteness. Lance just stared impassively back at her, his expression unchanging. Charla crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

"Come on, Lance, live on the wild side. Life isn't long enough to play it safe all the time!"

"Yours sure won't be if you think like that," Lance deadpanned, only to groan when Charla tried her pleading face on him one more time. "Don't look at me like that, kid, I'm only thinking of what's best for us. Trust me, I've been around longer than you have."

"So? I wasn't the one who got myself chained up by apes."

"Hey, hey, that's completely irrelevant."

"No it isn't. Hey, I just thought of something. If you're an earth dragon, why didn't you just, I don't know..._earth_ your way out of there? I mean, your element doesn't drain when you lose physical strength, so…" Charla stared at him imploringly, but his eyes just narrowed into a scowl and he turned away.

"Fine," Lance grunted, deliberately avoiding her question, "we'll do it your way. But don't blame me if you become Dreadwing lunch."

"Wait, you didn't answer my…!" Charla trailed off as the green dragon spread his massive white wings and took a running leap off the top of the hill. Rolling her eyes, she jumped after him, pushing off from the rocky peak she'd been perched on and spreading her wings. She caught up with him in minutes and couldn't help but notice that his wingspan was almost twice hers.

"Let's go," he said, speeding up with several hefty flaps of his wings. Charla shot after him eagerly, cutting through the air like a blade and overtaking him in seconds. They caught the air currents and soared far above the grasslands, heading for the tiny specks in the distance and the faint mountain range beyond.


	6. Which Way to the Well of Souls?

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, fellas. I wanted to get chapter 7 done before I posted this one, but time and uni are not on my side. D: I have nothing else to say~ Please enjoy.**

**Chapter 5.**

**Which Way to the Well of Souls?**

It was near a quarter of an hour later that Lance slowed his pace to a gentle glide and began to bank to the side, looking for somewhere to land. Charla glanced at him in confusion before turning her gaze back to the Dreadwings. They were still indistinct shapes in the distance, though much closer than they had been earlier. If she looked hard enough, Charla could just make out the shapes of their large bat-like wings as they circled in the air. She supposed they were patrolling, but why Lance was stopping now was beyond her.

"We're not stopping, are we?" she asked incredulously, wheeling around him. "They're still ages away! We can go a little closer."

"No," Lance grunted bluntly as he began his descent to the grasslands below. "They'll see us."

Charla stared, "But they're so far away! If we stop now we'll have to walk for hours! Come on, just a little closer…"

"I said no! If we can see them, they can see us. It's only a matter of time before they do. We need to land as soon as possible."

"But, Lance!"

"No! I'm not risking it! Besides, the walk should only take us an hour at most. They're not as far away as they might look. Come on, we should land."

Charla, however, seemed to have other ideas. Grimacing, she beat her wings hard and rose higher away from the descending Lance, calling back down to him. "Okay, you do that! I'll meet you there!"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she whirled around and shot away towards the circling Dreadwings. Lance balked and dropped several feet when his wings stopped working from shock. Recovering from his mild fall, he twisted and shot back up again, powering after Charla.

"Wait! Charla!" His yells fell on deaf ears as the much faster dragoness shot ahead and left him struggling in her wake. Lance ground his teeth together with frustration and beat the wind with heavy wing-falls, trying in vain to catch up. "Dammit!"

Charla couldn't contain her grin as she powered through the air and left Lance in the figurative dust. She set her sights on the Dreadwings ahead and put him to the back of her mind. His paranoia could wait—right now, finding the apes was what mattered. As she grew closer to the circling bat-like creatures, her eyes picked out telltale humps upon their backs. These Dreadwings were unquestionably part of the Dark Armies, and Charla had found her apes.

Not bothering to suppress a triumphant smirk, she soared ever closer to the Dreadwings, wings slicing the air. The leathery membranes of their wings and the matted fur that covered their stream-lined bodies were just becoming distinct, but Charla wasn't about to head for the ground just yet. Just a little further, she kept telling herself, squinting against the wind whipping her face. She almost couldn't hear Lance powering after her anymore.

Just as Charla was beginning to think landing sounded like a good idea, a change in movement caught her eye. The Dreadwings had broken formation. No longer were they circling in a perfect, rhythmic dance above the grasslands. One had broken away and, unless Charla was mistaken, appeared to be closing in. She frowned and squinted, just as a flash of bright red materialized in front of the Dreadwing. Charla cocked her head in confusion. Lucky for her, that confusion only lasted a moment.

Stifling a yelp of alarm, Charla banked hard to the left—just as Lance caught up. Caught off guard by her sudden shift, he sped past her without stopping, straight into the path of the very thing that she had swerved to avoid. This time Charla didn't bother to stifle her yell.

"Look out!" she screamed, swerving back towards Lance. She struck him paws first at the base of his left wing and sent them both tumbling to earth, just as a ball of red energy seared by overhead with a crackling hiss. Charla felt the heat as it almost clipped the tip of her horn, but then it was gone and she was falling in a tangle of limbs and wings.

"The hell!" came Lance's startled shout, almost whipped away by the wind. It rushed past them as they fell, growing stronger as their speed increased. Charla struggled to regain steady flight as she and Lance tumbled over each other, wings slapping each other in the snout. The sky spun around her in a blur of colour, the harsh wind ripping tears from her eyes, and she caught a glimpse of the ground rushing up to meet them.

Teeth gritting in defiance, Charla managed to spring away from Lance and catch the wind seconds before they met earth. She managed to land lightly, if a little off-balance, staggering in the tall grass. Lance wasn't so lucky. As the ground loomed below him, he twisted his body around and struck it hard, throwing up a cloud of dust and grass heads that obscured him from view. Charla shielded her eyes with a wing and only looked again when the dust had settled. Lance lay sprawled across the earth, having taken the brunt of the force on his right shoulder. Charla took a step towards him, startled by the sight of his motionless body. But then he groaned and shifted, and Charla relaxed.

"The hell was that about…?" Lance groaned as he pushed himself shakily to his feet, eyes scrunched shut. Charla padded towards him sheepishly.

"The Dreadwing shot something at us."

"At _you_," Lance growled, cracking an eye open to glare at her. "I _told_ you not…to…"

His words trailed off when he caught sight of something behind Charla, his mouth hanging half open. The stunned look in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Charla, who gave him an odd look before turning around slowly.

"What are y…you…" she gaped, words failing her.

Standing in front of them was an entire battalion of apes—Charla estimated there would have been at least two hundred—all of whom were frozen in shock at the sight of the two dragons that had dropped out of the sky. Not one of them moved a muscle, including the huge commander standing near the centre of the crowd. Charla assumed only the shock of their sudden appearance had stopped the apes from attacking on sight. But, judging from the twitching of their hands as they reached for their weapons, that was about to change.

"Oh crap," Charla mumbled. Behind her, Lance uttered a very obscene word.

"Capture those dragons!" the commanding ape roared suddenly, raising a massive javelin above his head. "Don't let them escape! I want their hides!"

With a high-pitched howl that started at one ape and rippled through the ranks, the entire battalion charged as one. Weapons and dragon-scale armour glinted in the sunlight as they sprinted across the grassland, surrounding the stunned dragons. But Charla didn't stay stunned for long. A cry of excitement left her lips as she leapt to meet the charging apes, twirling her body into a spiralling corkscrew, scales igniting like dry tinder. Like a drill of fire, she powered through the ranks and was met by pained shrieks as the apes were burned alive. The acrid smell of burning fur met her nostrils as she landed hard on the ground again, skidding from the speed of her charge.

"Don't!" Lance roared suddenly, and Charla backed up in alarm when the larger dragon landed heavily beside her after cutting through a trio of apes. His grey eyes were blazing almost as fiercely as her flames. "You'll set this whole place alight, you idiot!"

"So what?" Charla yelled back, drawing herself up defiantly. "I'll fight how I want!"

"Do you want to kill us both?" Lance exclaimed, a furious glint in his eyes. With a vicious snarl, he spun away and severed an attacking ape in two with a single swipe of his claws. Flicking the blood from his talons, he whirled back to Charla. "You start a fire here and the whole grasslands will go up in flames! And let me remind you that the apes aren't the only creatures around these parts! Do you want to destroy their home?"

"What do you want me to do?" Charla yelled. "Fight without my element?"

"Yes!"

"That's suicide!" she shrieked, ducking out of the way as an ape leapt at her head. She slapped the dragon-bone blade from its hand with a swipe of her paw and slammed her forehead into its stunned face. Letting the limp body drop to the ground, she whirled around to yell at Lance again, only to find him gone. Startled, Charla looked around frantically, wondering if the apes had already forced him to the ground and were swarming all over him.

But then his angry roar reached her ears and her head snapped to the left, where she beheld him surrounded on all sides by many of the larger apes. With movements so fluid they belied his bulk, Lance cut the apes down like straw dummies and avoided every one of their retaliating blows. More replaced those he had slaughtered, but he didn't miss a beat, dodging their weapons and counterattacking so swiftly and gracefully that it was almost a dance—a flawless, dangerous dance. Unchained and unrestrained, he was untouchable.

Charla watched him for as long as was possible before the apes swarmed her unmoving form. Tearing her eyes away from Lance, she spat a fireball at close range straight into the chest of a small ape. It ate through his chest without stopping and shot out the other side, where it struck the head of another ape before disintegrating. Both apes dropped like stones. Smiling grimly, Charla vaulted over the fallen body of one and twisted in the air, bringing her tailblade down across the face of another. It howled and clutched at its bleeding face as she landed gracefully behind it and knocked it down with a fireball to the back.

Behind her, Lance's guttural roar ripped across the grasslands and the smell of blood and burnt fur permeated her nostrils. Leaping on another ape and forcing his face into the dirt, Charla looked up in time to see Lance duck under the blade of a large ape and tear into its chest with a well-placed strike from his talons. Another ape approached from behind, raising a spear to skewer him, and Charla opened her mouth to shout a warning. But Lance spun around before she could, snatching the spear from the ape's grip and shattering it to splinters between his jaws. The ape fell without a sound as Lance's claws penetrated its chest.

Charla watched him in amazement, ducking an ape that tried to leap on her back and instead tumbled onto the ground. Every step seemed deliberate, every strike timed with perfect precision—and not once did she see him use his element. The earth was all around him—it stretched as far as the eye could see. This was the perfect battleground for an earth dragon, but not once did Lance stop to utilise it. Not once did he give Charla any reason to believe he had an element at all.

Kicking one ape into another, Charla again tore her eyes away from the green dragon and focused on her own battles. All she could see in every direction was dirty, putrid fur and armour forged from dragon scales. The apes seemed endless. If they wanted to get out of this battle alive, Charla knew escape—not victory—was their only option.

Preoccupied by these thoughts, she was caught off guard by a large ape sneaking up behind her. His hooked blade slammed into her flank, cutting through her cherry scales and knocking her onto her side. Ignoring the burning pain in her side, Charla spun around and cracked her jaws open, intending to roast this ape alive. But suddenly Lance was there, propelling the massive spade on the end of his tail into the back of the ape's head. It dropped without uttering a sound as a sickening crack rent the air. Charla jumped up with eyes blazing.

"That was _mine_!" she cried indignantly. His head snapped towards her and she faltered at the sight of his eyes, shadowed by anger. Blood ran from a tiny cut beneath his eye.

"So what?" he said darkly. Scowling, he turned away again. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait!" Charla yelped, whirling towards one of the prone apes that she had knocked down previously. Despite a bloody wound in his temple, the ape was still alive and half-conscious. Charla linked her claws through the neck of his tunic and pulled him up to meet her eyes.

"Which way is the Well of Souls?" she demanded, eyes glinting dangerously. The ape trembled, gaping wordlessly, and Charla snarled in frustration. "The Well of Souls! Where is it?"

Shaking uncontrollably, the ape raised a paw and pointed. Charla glanced in the direction it was pointing, committing it to memory before the ape's paw dropped limply to the ground. Snorting, she dropped the unconscious ape in disgust and turned away. Lance was staring at her, expression guarded. Charla met his gaze defiantly, but he spun away seconds later to halt the charge of two more attacking apes. Charla smirked.

"Let's go!" she called, bounding over to him. But she had hardly spread her wings before the apes leapt on her, desperate to keep her from escaping. Angrily, Charla clawed them off and felt Lance smack one off her back with a hefty swing of his paw.

"You go!" he demanded, crushing the ape beneath his paw. "I'll keep them at bay while you take flight!"

"No way!" Charla said defiantly, raising her head to glare at him. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"That's not what I'm saying!" Lance snapped, frustrated. "The apes aren't going to let us take flight unless one of us holds them off. You get into the air while I hold them off, then you cover me from the air while _I_ take flight! Got it?"

"I thought you didn't want me using fire."

"Just do it!"

Charla considered him for a moment and then nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Lance turned around to beat away the apes that tried to rush them as Charla spread her wings. She took a running start, aware of Lance cutting down the apes around her, and leapt skyward. A lobbed spear sped past her, barely missing her head, but Lance flattened another before it could throw its javelin. Careening higher, Charla wheeled around to help Lance only for a high-pitched shriek to break her concentration.

Startled, she dropped a few feet in time to avoid a swipe from the claws of a Dreadwing that had dipped down to meet her. Gritting her teeth, Charla spun towards the bat-like beast and spat a ball of condensed flame straight at its ugly, flat face. It exploded with the force of a small bomb and the Dreadwing careened away, shrieking and trying to claw at its injured face with the thumb-claws on its wings. Charla smirked as it dropped screeching to the ground.

But no sooner had that one dropped did another swoop down to attack, bowling Charla head over heels in the air with its hind claws. Spinning out of control, she struggled to find which way was up before the earth could rush up to meet her again. Lance's roar of pain rent the air and alarm burst in her gut. Finally catching herself, Charla spun around in frantic search for the green dragon.

Lance was trying to take flight from the ground, determined to help Charla, but the apes were swarming all over him. Emboldened by his loss of concentration, they swarmed him like bees from a hive, throwing weapons and projectiles at his body. Lance knocked them out of the way furiously and spread his wings, ignoring the gash a dragon-bone dagger scored along his ribs. Gritting his teeth, he broke into a lumbering run, ducking his head to protect his eyes from the weapons that were lobbed at him. Gashes were opened up all along his body as spears, swords and the like found their mark in his scales.

"Stop!" Charla yelled, opening her mouth to spit a fireball at the apes. But the Dreadwing shrieked again and the resulting—almost tangible—sound waves sent her tumbling head over heels once more.

Down below, Lance leapt skywards with a powerful kick of his hind legs. His head snapped to the side as a thrown dagger sliced his cheek open, but he ignored the pain. Beating his wings with powerful strokes, he rose higher and collided with the Dreadwing seconds before it could snatch Charla up in its claws. Snarling, dragon and bat rolled over each other and tumbled back towards the ground. Charla recovered in time to see them hit the earth with a resounding _thud_.

"Lance!" she yelled, diving to help him. She landed hard beside the downed Dreadwing and spotted Lance a few feet away, his wings splayed out across the broken grasses. Breath catching in her throat, she skidded to his side. "Lance?"

Lance raised his head slowly and Charla back peddled as he pushed his shaking body upright once more. Blood ran down his scales from a particularly deep gash in his side, dripping into the dirt and creating a pool of red. His face, too, was smeared with crimson.

"So much for that," he grunted, legs holding steady despite his injuries. He met Charla's startled gaze. "Guess we'll just have to fight our way out."

Lance took a step towards the regrouping apes and his legs almost gave out beneath him. Scowling, Charla took a stance in front of him as he struggled to stay upright.

"I'll deal with this one," she muttered, closing her eyes. Heat began to blossom along her scales and, though she could not see them, she knew they were beginning to glow with crimson light. Lance stared at her and it took a moment for him to realise what she was doing.

"No, don't…!" he exclaimed, an undertone of something remarkably similar to panic in his voice. He winced and staggered, blood splashing the ground, but Charla ignored him. Her entire being was focused on the flames that ignited her veins. They filled her to the brim, like magma rising to the mouth of a volcano ready to blow. The shrieks of the surrounding apes only just permeated her conscious.

"Don't…" Lance groaned, reaching out for her in vain. He was too late.

Like a living inferno, Charla exploded, flames leaping from her body like writhing snakes. A wave of fire swept over the grassland and Lance flattened himself to the ground, covering his body with his wings. The heat was almost unbearable, but it left him somehow unharmed. The cries of apes as they were burned alive were almost drowned out by the hissing of the flames.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, the flames vanished.

Charla opened her eyes to find herself standing in the centre of a blackened circle of earth, the edges of which were still crackling fiercely with fire. The scorched bodies of apes surrounded her on all sides, unmoving. Beside her, Lance struggled back to his feet.

"I told you not to…" he snarled. The remaining fires began to spread across the dry grassland like mould, crackling and hissing like angry snakes. Charla barely gave them a glance.

"Let's get out of here," she told Lance stiffly, "we have a direction."

Not waiting for his response, Charla took flight in the direction the ape had previously pointed her. Lance glanced once more at the stunned remnants of the ape battalion that had survived the fire fury—and the fires that continued to spread around him—before he followed.

This time, no Dreadwings tried to stop them.

* * *

"What the heck were you thinking?" Lance yelled when he caught up to Charla, his voice cracking in anger. "You could've set the entire grasslands alight! If those apes don't manage to put the fires out, you might well have!"

"So what?" Charla snapped defensively, bristling with indignation. "I saved our lives!"

"You should have just let me handle it!" Lance exclaimed.

"I did it to save _your_ sorry hide! Maybe if you'd just used your _element_, I wouldn't have _had_ to save it!"

Lance's grey eyes blazed with fury, like storm clouds brimming with lightning. "That's got nothing to do with it!"

"It's got everything to do with it!" Charla yelled, whirling around to face him and halting them in the air. "You could've beaten them easily if you'd just used your element, _earth_ dragon. At least _you_ wouldn't have to worry about setting everything on fire! So why didn't you?"

"That's none of your business," Lance growled, flying past her without meeting her eyes. Charla glared at his back and followed.

"Why is it such a big secret?" she snapped, still itching with frustration. "Or maybe it's that you don't _have_ an element, is that it?"

Lance didn't reply and only the steady beating of his wings answered her. Charla faltered, her anger fading, and suddenly regretted her words. Anxiously, she flew to his side and searched his face for answers. Blood was still running down his cheeks like red tears.

"That's…that's not it…is it?" she asked anxiously. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"No," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly, "I have an element. But everyone has their secrets…"

He trailed off wistfully and glanced sideways at Charla, "Don't you?"

"I…" Charla bit her lip and looked away, a turmoil of emotions roiling inside. For once she found herself unable to mask those emotions and didn't dare meet Lance's gaze again—she knew he'd be able to read her eyes like a book.

For a long time neither of them spoke, the rhythmic beats of their wing strokes the only sound to break the silence. Charla continuously shot looks at Lance out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed strangely unfazed by the injuries he bore and she didn't dare ask. The sun was halfway to the horizon by the time they broke the silence.

"We should stop for the night," Lance said, eyes raking the ground for somewhere to land. The earth below them was uneven and rocky, even more so than the grasslands had been before, undulating into tall hills and almost-mountains. Charla assumed there would be no shortage of caves amongst the rocks.

Minutes later, the two dragons alighted on a reasonably flat stretch of land and Lance led them up a short slope to a hollow beneath a large, overhanging rock. It was cold and dry inside and the hollowed-out space was only shallow, but it would do for the night. As Lance flopped down on the stone ground, Charla turned back towards the mouth of the hollow.

"I'll go hunt us something to eat," she said. Lance didn't reply.

It was dark by the time Charla returned, two rabbit carcasses dangling from her jaws. There seemed to be an abundance of the fast, long-eared creatures here in the grasslands. Charla wondered how long it would take before she got sick of eating them. When she padded up to the mouth of the shallow cave she found Lance spread out across the smooth rock, eyes closed. The steady rise and fall of his flanks assured Charla he was only sleeping, though the stone around him was stained red in several places.

Dropping the rabbits at the mouth of the hollow, Charla padded to his side. Her eyes raked over his body, lingering on the deep gash across his ribs. No doubt it would leave another scar to add to his already plentiful collection. Hesitantly, she raised a paw and touched it to his shoulder—his scales were warm, but not overly so.

With a grunt, Lance cracked an eye open, "…What is it?"

"I brought food." Charla grinned half-heartedly and turned away to fetch the rabbits as Lance sat up. He rolled his neck and she heard the unpleasant sound of his vertebrae popping.

"Rabbits again?" Lance asked when she dropped one at his paws. Charla made a face.

"They're all there _is_."

"Hey, I'm not complaining. Thanks." Without another word he stretched out on his belly and began to tear hungrily at the carcass.

Charla chewed slowly, watching him over the top of her meal. He was hard to figure out. She wasn't sure how dragons usually acted—all she had to go on was what she had been told not so long ago—but something about him seemed unusual. He was stern and yet, in a strange way, carefree. And he fought with a grace that she had never seen before, as though he had been fighting for years. But he didn't fight like a dragon. Dragons fought with the elements—or so she had been told. Yet he did not.

More confusing still was his situation. Charla had heard that dragons typically lived in villages or temples. They weren't solitary creatures. They lived together, fought together, died together—dragons were a social race, despite the war that surrounded them. So where had Lance come from? And where was he going?

More importantly, what were his reasons? Were his own ambitions so unimportant that he would drop everything to follow her?

"You're staring."

Charla jumped and grinned sheepishly, "Sorry. I was just thinking."

Lance swallowed a morsel of rabbit and met her eyes, "Yeah? About what?"

She hesitated, but only briefly. "You. Just…who are you?"

For a moment Lance was silent, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bone. It cracked between his teeth and he swallowed it unconcernedly. His expression was guarded when he spoke, but he didn't give Charla an answer. Instead he shot her own question right back at her. "Who are _you_?"

"No one." The answer slipped out too quickly, and Lance raised an eye ridge. Charla silently cursed herself. "I mean…it doesn't matter who I am. It only matters where I'm going."

"The Well of Souls? What's the deal with this place anyway? Why're you heading there?"

Charla shook her head and didn't reply. She thought she heard Lance sigh, but he didn't enquire any further. For several minutes, the only sound was of crunching bones as the two dragons picked their carcasses clean. When they had finished, Charla lay on her belly and watched Lance lick his wounds clean. Many of them had crusted over, but the deeper ones were still openly bleeding. She grimaced as she watched him clean the blood from his face. It was hard to tell whether it was his blood or the blood of the rabbit.

"Are you gonna be okay?" she asked hesitantly, and he paused for a moment to answer.

"It's nothing. I've had worse. A good sleep and I'll be right as rain. What about you? You hurt?"

Charla twisted around to get a better view of herself. There were a few shallow scratches on her back where the Dreadwing had struck her and a puncture wound in her flank where the blade of an ape had snuck through her scales, but nothing to give her cause for alarm. The scratches stung, but they would likely heal in a day or two.

"Nothing too bad."

Again they lapsed into awkward silence, and this time there wasn't even the crackle of a fire to keep the silence at bay. Charla knew a fire was not the wisest idea, now that they knew for sure there were apes about. She supposed they would just have to spend the night without one, though the chill in the air made her shiver uncomfortably. Sighing, she placed her head on her paws and stared blankly at a spot not far from her ivory talons.

The howl of the wind outside broke the silence and was followed by the high-pitched trilling of crickets. Charla lay still and listened to the noises of the night. Somewhere far away, an owl hooted an eerie tune. The scrape of scales on rock was the next thing she heard. Then, unexpectedly, Lance's voice.

"Hey."

Charla looked up, but Lance wasn't looking at her. Instead he was staring into the night, an unreadable expression on his face. Charla had a feeling now would be a good time to remain silent and let him speak. It was a few moments before he did.

"About my element…you were right. I am an earth dragon. But…it's been a long time since I last used those powers."

Charla bit her lip again to stop herself from blurting out a question. He would tell her eventually. She just had to be patient. Lance shifted uneasily and Charla had the distinct feeling he was avoiding looking at her. When he spoke again his voice was uncertain, as though he wasn't sure he should be telling her this.

"See…a long time ago, I made a promise to someone. I intend to keep that promise. I haven't used my element since." Taking a deep breath and releasing it in a sigh, he turned to look at Charla. "I…haven't told anyone this before. But I will keep that promise, no matter what."

He fell silent and looked away. Charla had a feeling she wasn't going to get any more out of him this night, but what he had said was enough for now. It felt like Lance's heart had been closed off to everyone for a long time, and that only now that he was trying to open it did he realise how hard it was. It would be some time before he opened up to her fully, she could tell that. Old wounds were always the hardest to open.

But her wounds were still fresh. And right now, Charla felt like she owed it to Lance to at least explain to him _why_ she was heading for the Well of Souls. If he was going to follow her, he deserved to know why.

"I made a promise to someone, too," she mumbled, and Lance looked at her sharply. "It wasn't a long time ago, but…that promise is important to me. And I will do everything in my power to keep it."

"Is this about why you're going to this Soul Well place?"

Charla nodded slowly, steeling herself for the story she was about to tell. It was strange—suddenly, the words seemed like they were ready to spill. She had thought it would be hard to tell someone, especially so soon after it had happened, but now she wanted nothing more that to spill it all. The tale wanted to be told. And who was she to deny it?

"My egg was at the temple on the night of the raid," she said bluntly, and saw Lance's eyes widen. "That's how I know I was born twelve years ago."

"So, what happened?"

Charla smiled wryly, "It's a bit of a long story."

Lance gestured at the dark sky outside, tinged by the light of the pale green moon. "We've got time."

"All right. But it doesn't start with me…well, not really. I'll tell it to you the way he told it to me once."

"Who did?"

"My best friend."


	7. The Tale of Jayce Bladelizard

**A/N: Hello fellows, new chapter for you today! Or tonight. Or whatever time of the day it happens to be while you're reading this ramble. This chapter begins the second 'arc' of this story, one which will continue for several more chapters before we return to the present day with Charla and Lance. In fact, one could consider this is where the story _actually_ starts. Many thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I'm so surprised by how much attention this OC-based fic has gotten. Please enjoy this chapter~ **

**Oh, and many thanks to Selvah for editing, once again. ;]**

**Chapter** **6.**

**The Tale of Jayce Bladelizard**

It was the dark hours before dawn when the moons seemed dullest and the stars were fading shyly into shadow. Smoke coiled in the air, thick and cloying, rising from the ruined temple and the dying remnants of fires amongst the trees. It was silent now, eerily so after the cacophony of screams, roars and crackling flames that had rent the night only an hour previously. In comparison the excited chattering of countless apes sounded quiet and lonesome, joined only by the drumming of their feet as they marched.

Behind them, the doors of the once great Dragon Temple opened onto a scene of destruction and despair. But none of the apes looked back. The temple was void of life now. The guardians had escaped in horror when their efforts to save the helpless eggs had proved futile. Only the remnants of those doomed eggs remained—shattered shells and unborn hatchlings that would never have a chance to live, strewn across the temple floor in a flood of death.

A squad of apes mulled around the outskirts of the temple, awaiting orders from their commander. They would spend the next few weeks here to secure the temple in case the guardians tried to return, until another platoon was dispatched to relieve them of the duty. But the rest began the long journey back to the Well of Souls.

On the eastern side of the temple, an ape commander was leading his platoon back through the dense swamp towards the boats they had docked at the shore. It would be a long walk back and an even longer row back to the mainland. But the apes were still buzzing with adrenaline, their excitement still fresh from the one-sided battle they had just ended. They would not be sleeping tonight.

Most of the apes in this particular platoon had never seen a real battle before—at least, not before this night. They were only lowly soldiers, excited that their first real mission for the Ape King had been something so important. These apes would learn fast. The years that followed would be filled with war and they would be right in the thick of it. But for now they celebrated their first victory as they marched through the swamp after their brutish commander.

Of the three hundred or so apes that formed this platoon, there were many that were straggling behind, cleaning their weapons as they muttered together in quiet but quick voices. Among these stragglers was one Jayce Bladelizard—one of the many newest and therefore youngest soldiers. This had been his first battle. Back at the Well of Souls, his former duties had consisted of little more than patrolling and cleaning. The most he'd ever killed before this night was a family of poisonous mites he had once found nesting under his bed. And, like any other ape, the thrill of a victorious battle, however bloody it may have been, was still pumping through his veins.

"I reckon I smashed at least twelve!"

"Get real! You hardly managed to get your grubby paws on two! I, on the other hand, smashed _fourteen_ of them!"

A scrawny ape scoffed and shoved the other's shoulder, sending him staggering into the bushes. Jayce looked up from polishing his scimitar to laugh with the others at the sight of the ape flailing in the grasp of a spiky shrub. Those two apes were brothers and had been arguing since they had left the temple over the amount of eggs they had managed to smash. But with the amount of apes that had been in the temple, Jayce would have been surprised had any of them managed to smash more than one each. He himself had only managed to get his paws on a single egg—and it had been knocked out of his paws by an off-balance ape faster than he could have blinked.

"Forget how many eggs you shattered, did anyone else catch a glimpse of the King himself?" interrupted another ape who went by the name Duskjackal—or Raden to those who knew him well.

A shorter-than-average ape beside Jayce raised his paw suddenly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Oh, oh, I saw him! At least, I think I did. Massive swords and everything."

He nudged Jayce companionably, nodding at his scimitars, "Kind of like yours, but ten times the size."

Jayce glance at the curved blade in his hands. Its twin was currently strapped to his back, waiting for its turn to be polished. He had always known the Ape King carried scimitars similar to his. Only, from what rumours he had heard, they were at least three times the size of a small ape. It took a massive ape to wield those weapons. Smirking, Jayce admired his reflection in the surface of his blade and imagined what it would be like. "Guess so."

"I heard the King was gonna be there," Raden Duskjackal continued, dropping back to walk between Jayce and the shorter ape, "but I didn't see him. You'd think an ape that big would be easy to spot."

"Yeah," Jayce grinned, "but not when there's so many of us. I could hardly see my own feet in that place. The King probably hung back most of the battle, though, let us 'expendables' do the work. Wouldn't you?"

"Thinking like a true commander," Raden grunted, clapping Jayce on the shoulder. It was hard to tell whether he approved or not.

"Get a move on back there!" a gruff voice yelled from further ahead and the straggling apes grimaced.

"Better pick up the pace," Raden suggested and took off at a steady jog, the shorter ape at his heels. Jayce followed at a slower pace, polishing his scimitar furiously with a less-than-clean rag. He didn't bother trying to keep up, knowing the platoon wouldn't get too far ahead. He could easily catch up once he had finished with his swords.

Very soon, Jayce was the last ape lagging behind, a good few metres between him and the next ape. He kept his eyes on the reflective surface of his scimitar, rubbing at a particularly stubborn spot that refused to be shifted. If he moved the blade right, he could see the green moon reflected in its sheen—but most of the time he was just staring at his own face. He was a fairly ordinary ape—the usual deep-set eyes, bright red nose and long face. Over his not-so-scrawny shoulders he wore a reddish-brown tunic that was tattered at the edges, tapered to his waist by a thick leather belt. A tattered brown sash was tied around his forehead just above his eyes, and the rich brown fur on his head stuck out at odd angles. Leather straps crossed in the centre of his chest, securing the sheaths on his back where his scimitars rested between battles.

Grimacing at his own reflection, Jayce pocketed the rag and made to return the polished scimitar to its sheath—but something stopped him. A flash of red reflected in the silvery sheen as he twisted the blade, but only for a split second. Frowning, Jayce twisted the blade again, trying to find it. Had it been the red moon?

Glancing upwards, he saw only the green moon peering through the gap in the canopy. The red moon was out of sight.

Glancing back at his blade, he caught the flash of red just in time and steadied his blade at that angle, peering intently at the reflection. It was only dull, but against the dark green leaves of the undergrowth it stood out as vibrantly as spilt blood. There was something in the bushes.

Forgetting about the rest of the platoon slowly marching out of sight, Jayce turned carefully towards the bushes, keeping one eye on the reflection in his blade. But with the slightest movement of his hand, the angle of the scimitar changed ever so slightly and the reflection disappeared. Jayce cursed under his breath and instead turned his attention fully on the undergrowth. Only dark foliage met his curious gaze, but he knew what he had seen.

Sheathing his blade, Jayce crept closer and parted the bushes with his hands. The foliage was scratchy and unpleasant against his fingers, but under the leaves and dirt he found what had caught his eye. Something bright red and glossy, though speckled with flecks of earth, lay nestled in the ground just inches from his fingers. The light of the green moon reflected off its lustrous surface. Eagerly, breath catching in his throat, Jayce bent down to take it in his hands.

The object was almost as big as his skull—and he assumed his skull would be just as heavy. It was almost warm to the touch and he cradled it in his hands as though it was made of glass. Never in his life had he seen such a massive, flawless gem.

A strangely egg-shaped gem.

Jayce was not the smartest of apes—though, one could argue, nor was he among the stupidest—but even he could recognize a dragon egg when it rested right under his nose. But Jayce, like many apes, was also very greedy, and more often than once had greed outweighed his common sense. That was why, instead of dropping the egg and smashing it like his superiors would have ordered him, he stood, stared and tried to justify why it was, in fact, _not_ a dragon egg.

"What would a little egg be doing all the way out here?" he wondered aloud, polishing the surface of the egg. Glancing back towards the Dragon Temple, he realised it was no longer visible through the thickets of mushroom trees. Why would the dragons leave an egg here of all places?

"You can't possibly be an egg," Jayce said to the lustrous object, as though he was trying to convince it as much he was himself. "If you were an egg, you'd be in the temple in pieces by now. The dragons wouldn't be so careless to just leave one of their eggs lying around in the mud."

"No," he held the egg up to the light of the green moon, appreciating the way it played across its ruby surface, "you are most definitely not an egg. You must be one of those gems the dragons prize so much. A big, shiny, egg-shaped gem."

"Jayce! What's the hold up?"

The voice startled Jayce back into reality and he jumped skittishly, jamming the egg into the pocket of his tunic almost automatically. Spinning around, he tried to look innocent when he saw Raden backtracking to find him. The other ape crossed his arms in front of his barrel-like chest and raised an eyebrow.

"You hiding something?" he enquired suspiciously.

Jayce's paw inched inconspicuously towards the lump in his pocket, "'Course not. Just…thought I saw something in the bushes, is all."

"Oh yeah?" Raden stepped closer, looking interested. "Like what?"

Jayce opened his mouth to respond without any idea of what he was going to say, but he was saved by the angry shout of a commander from further ahead.

"Duskjackal! Bladelizard! Do I have to drag your scrawny behinds back to the boats myself? Keep up and quit dragging your feet!"

Raden groaned, but Jayce uttered a soundless sigh of relief and his shoulders relaxed. He shoved his paws in his pockets and felt the smooth, warm surface of the ruby, relieved it was still there. Raden turned away and beckoned to him, looking mutinous.

"Come on, we've wasted enough time already," he grumbled. "Keep lagging behind and old Cursestrike will probably put us on clean-up duty. I don't know about you, but I don't fancy scrubbing rusted saucepans all night. Let's go."

"Yeah," Jayce agreed absentmindedly, his thoughts with the egg—no, _ruby_—sitting heavy in his pocket. He followed Raden silently, casting one last glance back towards the Dragon Temple. It wasn't an egg…it couldn't have been…

Neither ape spoke until they had caught up with the rest of the platoon, and by then Jayce had pushed those thoughts out of his mind. As far as he was concerned, the object currently residing in his pocket was no less than a large ruby gem. A gem that was his and his alone.

* * *

Dawn was breaking by the time the boats left the shore and headed across the strait towards the mainland, carrying with them scores of disgruntled apes. The wide, flat, wooden vessels cut through the waves slowly, pushed on by a dozen oars in the paws of two dozen apes. Jayce sat beside Raden, grimacing as flecks of salty water peppered his face and fur.

"No sleep, no rest, not even a break!" Raden was complaining loudly to the entire boat and receiving only agreeing grunts from the other apes. "You'd think we're slaves not soldiers! We've been up the entire night and what do they do? They make us row all the way back without a single wink of sleep! I wouldn't be surprised if _some_ of us dropped dead from exhaustion."

Jayce followed his friend's gaze to the scrawny ape manning the oar in front of them. They could hear his raspy panting even over the sound of the waves battering the sides of their boat. But no one spoke up to agree or disagree with Raden and eventually he fell silent, muttering mutinously under his breath. Jayce tuned him out, focusing on the rhythmic strokes of the oars and the lapping of waves against the hull. He wasn't surprised when the ruby he'd found wriggled its way back into his thoughts.

He could feel it knocking against his hip with every stroke of the oar, as though pleading for his attention. Jayce would have liked to pull it out of his pocket and admire it again, but in the middle of a very open boat that didn't seem like a good idea. So instead he just imagined it, and how it would look sitting on his nightstand back at the barracks. He grinned inwardly. Raden would be so jealous when he found out. But the commanders couldn't know…

Jayce frowned. He'd have to keep it a secret from them or risk getting it confiscated. And he'd be damned if his ruby ended up in the greedy hands of some fat commander. No, for once he'd get the prize—and they would get nothing. He entertained this thought for the next few hours, with nothing but the dull rhythm of rowing to distract him.

Midmorning was creeping towards midday by the time the boats docked at the shore of the mainland. They pulled in to a harbour and were greeted by the platoon of apes that had been posted there for several weeks. But none of them were given the chance to rest before the commanders ordered they begin the march back to the Well of Souls immediately. Groaning, the tired soldiers bid the harbour apes goodbye, leaving them only with the tales of their victory back at the Dragon Temple, and commenced the slow march back home.

More than once, Jayce wished they'd been able to spare a few Dreadwings to carry them the rest of the way. His arms and back ached from rowing, and his legs protested every step of the way. But at the least the ruby was warm, safe and secure in his pocket.

Halfway to the Well of Souls, the tired soldiers were at last allowed a small respite at the edge of a sparse coastal forest. To the south, the earth dropped down a jagged cliff face to the roiling waves below. Most of the apes collapsed where they stood, stretching out on scratchy patches of grass to catch their breath. While the others sat around and discussed the battle at the Temple in quick, excited voices, Jayce meandered further away. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he pulled his prize from his pocket to examine it.

Rich sunlight played across its gleaming surface and its ruby sheen was reflected in the ape's wide, greedy eyes. He ran a paw across its sleek surface, marvelling at the smooth texture and the way it seemed to fit perfectly into his paw. Egg or not, he was undeniably glad he had taken it from the bushes. Never had he—or any lowly expendable—been able to hold a prize such as this. Jayce couldn't help grinning.

"Found something?" a voice asked close behind him, and Jayce jumped a mile.

Juggling the gem in his paws frantically, he spun around to find Raden watching him curiously, arms folded. Jayce felt his heart plummet into his stomach, but it was too late to hide his prize. The other ape's eyes travelled to it immediately, too conspicuous against the backdrop of Jayce's grubby tunic. His reaction was instantaneous.

"What the heck?" Raden yelped, jumping forwards to stare at the red gem. "That's a dragon egg!"

"No it's not!" Jayce argued instantly, hugging it to his chest. "It's a gem and it's mine!"

Raden gaped incredulously, "Gem? I knew you were thick, Jayce, but geez…"

He made to pluck the egg from Jayce's grip, but he ducked out of the way and clutched it tighter, defensively. Raden scowled and pointed at it instead.

"What you've got there is a genuine dragon egg. How can you not see it? What did you do, steal it from the temple?"

"No!" Jayce retorted angrily. "I found it in the bushes! I'm telling you, it's not an egg! Why would a dragon egg be in the bushes? It's my gem!"

"Now you're just trying to fool yourself. No matter how much you try to convince yourself that thing is not an egg, it isn't going to change into what you want it to be." Raden grimaced and glanced briefly behind him. Then he shifted closer to Jayce and hissed, "I'd suggest getting rid of that thing right now, before the commanders find out. Heck, I don't even want to think of the consequences if they find out you stole an egg."

"No way," Jayce shoved the egg back in his pocket, eyes defiant. "They won't find out and it's not an egg. I didn't steal it, I found it in the bushes, and it's mine!"

"I don't care where you found it!" Raden snapped, bristling with sudden anger. He gestured wildly from Jayce's pocket to the edge of the cliff several meters away. "Smash it! Throw it over the cliff! Just get rid of that egg before you get us both in trouble!"

"It's _not_ an egg!"

All of a sudden, Raden was in his face, his fingers curling into fists around the neck of Jayce's tunic. His dark eyes burned with alarming fire that made the fur on the back of Jayce's neck stand on end. He was too stunned to wrench himself away and instead stood looking shocked, nose to nose with the ape he considered his best friend.

"You will get rid of that egg and you will get rid of it _now_, or so help me I'll report you to the commander myself," Raden hissed, his voice as deadly as dripping acid. "_I_ don't want my friend arrested for treason, _I_ don't want to see you executed for harbouring the enemy. But if you want to dig your own grave I sure as hell am not going to be buried with you. So do us both a favour and get rid of that…that _hell_-_spawn_ before it hatches!"

Visibly shaken, Jayce staggered backwards a few steps when Raden released his tunic. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find a response but finding no words to speak. Eventually, he just squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a single word.

"Okay."

"Good ape," Raden muttered with a sigh of relief, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Hurry up. We'll have to move out soon."

Nodding mutely, Jayce turned away and Raden watched him weave through the trees towards the cliff drop. Tensely, he glanced behind him to make sure none of the other apes had noticed, and was relieved to see no one was showing any interest. Shoving his paws in his pockets, Raden glanced back to Jayce just as the sound of something small and hard bouncing down the jagged cliff face reached his ears. Moments later, Jayce weaved back through the trees towards him, hands in his pockets and looking miserable.

"You did the right thing," Raden told him, slapping his back companionably as they wandered back to the rest of the apes. "Who knows how much trouble that egg could have gotten us in? Best not to go picking up any more strange objects you find in the bushes, eh, Jayce?"

Grinning to himself, Raden strode ahead and left Jayce to his own thoughts. As the apes moved out again, Jayce trailed after them with a heavy heart and a heavy pocket. He hated lying to Raden.

But not even his best friend was going to cheat him out of his prize.

* * *

In the days that followed after their return to the barracks at the Well of Souls, Jayce kept the gem under his pillow. It made for uncomfortable nights, but he didn't mind. Only late at night when his roommate—Raden—was asleep did he take the gem out and admire it in the light of his lantern. During the day it stayed hidden, and this arrangement suited Jayce just fine. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

It was only the third morning after their return when things went wrong. Jayce was the only one in the room at the time—which, in hindsight, was incredibly lucky. He was just fastening his broadswords to his back when he thought he heard something. It was a faint sound, like muffled cracking, and it took him some time to pin point where the noise was coming from. Then he noticed that his pillow was moving—not drastically, but as though something was wriggling underneath it.

Holding his breath, Jayce slowly reached towards the pillow and grasped a corner in one hand. Then, heart in his throat, he slowly peeled it back. His precious gem was shaking and quivering on the straw mattress, and cracks were spider-webbing across its formerly unmarred surface. Right before his astonished eyes, pieces of what could only be shell broke away from his gem and the cracking sounds magnified.

Then, with a final triumphant crack, the top of the shell exploded outwards and a slimy red creature tumbled onto the mattress. Jayce gaped.

The pillow slipped from his grasp and landed on the floor beside his bed, but he had eyes only for the creature that had just _hatched_ from his lovely gem. Writhing on the thin fabric that enclosed the straw of the mattress, the tiny lizard-like creature struggled to rid itself of an encasing of slime that made Jayce grimace. Unfurling its sticky, slimy stubs for wings, it raised its tiny head and opened its beak-like mouth. A defiant squeak assaulted Jayce's eardrums and he almost fell off his bed in shock.

Its red scales were every bit as glistening and gem-like as its shell, and a pair of giant green eyes stared at him from its little reptilian face. It was a dragon. A real, live, breathing dragon. Raden had been right.

Faced with the tiniest version of his most formidable enemy that he had ever seen, Jayce did the only thing he could. He swore. Loudly.

"Bad morning, Jayce?" asked Raden's voice from the doorway, and the startled ape almost hit the roof. He spun around on instinct, automatically hiding the hatchling from view and tried not to look too frazzled.

"Ah, yes, no, well, I mean, sort of…" Jayce stammered, words spilling from his lips before his brain could catch up. He trailed off when he realised he had no idea what to say and twisted his hands behind his back. Raden cocked an eyebrow.

"What did you do, stub your toe?" he snorted and shook his head, leaning against the steel doorframe. "Anyway, I just came to let you know… We've been reassigned."

For a moment the hatchling was pushed to the back of his mind, though it wouldn't stay there for long. Jayce looked up in surprise and some trepidation. The last time he'd been reassigned, he'd been put on cleanup duty for three months. Not the most desirable job. "What?"

"Right, no more patrol for us," Raden sighed and scratched the back of his head, "we've been given Hound duty."

Jayce gaped, "You're joking."

"Do I look like I am?"

Hound duty was one assignment all apes dreaded, which was why, it seemed, it was one given to lowly soldiers—especially those who had shirked their duties before or somehow gotten on the bad side of the commanders. Those who came back from training and caring for the Death Hounds usually sported large bite marks, broken bones, and missing fingers or limbs. That is, if they came back at all. More than once rumours had spread through the barracks of apes getting torn apart by the disgruntled hounds, usually during feeding time. It sounded to Jayce like one of the worst ways to die.

"Great," he grumbled, pushing his headband up and rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "What did we do to deserve this?"

"Someone's got to do it," Raden said, though he didn't sound any more pleased than Jayce. "Might as well be the expendables."

Jayce would have replied that training the brutish hounds was little more than a waste of time and limbs, but all that came out of his mouth was a scream of pain. Without thinking, he wrenched his hands out from behind his back and stared in horror at the tiny lizard latched onto his fingers. Its miniature fangs were razor sharp and they had sunk right through his leathery skin almost to the bone.

"Get it off!" Jayce howled, jumping to his feet and shaking his hand frantically. The hatchling clung tight, swinging to and fro like a pendulum, before it finally let go and flew in a smooth arc to land right back on the bed. Jayce instantly clasped his uninjured hand around the bleeding bite mark and shifted his body in front of the hatchling. But the damage had already been done.

Raden staggered into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, staring incredulously at the tiny lizard crawling out from behind Jayce. For several seconds he was silent, a twitch pulsing above his left eye and his face slowly growing redder. Jayce cringed, expecting the imminent explosion. He didn't have to wait for long.

"You—!" Raden called Jayce a word so vulgar that he winced. His hands curled into fists and he hissed in a voice hushed but dangerous, "I thought you got _rid_ of it! You threw it over the cliff! So why, _why_ is there a _dragon_ on your _BED_?"

"I couldn't do it!" Jayce exclaimed miserably, wincing and clutching his wounded hand. "I just…I really wanted it to be a gem. I really wanted to have my own prize for once. The commanders get everything. I just wanted a single gem…"

"But it _wasn't_ a _gem_!" Raden screeched in a tight voice that suggested he wanted to yell but knew better, looking as though he might explode from anger. He seemed to be swelling enough. "I told you! I _told_ you! But no, you weren't going to believe it until you had a _dragon_ crawling around on your bed! So do you believe _now_, Jayce? Now do you believe that your precious 'gem' was an _egg_?"

"I know!" Jayce sighed and looked down at his bleeding hand. The punctures in his skin were tiny but deep, and they _hurt_. "I know… I was stupid."

"You think?" Raden groaned and leant back against the closed door, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache behind his eyes. At length, he looked up again and glared at the red lizard squirming in its own slime on Jayce's mattress. His dagger slipped out of its sheath almost eagerly.

"We're going to have to kill it before anyone else finds out," he said bitterly, starting forwards. Jayce raised his head sharply.

Without thinking, without even stopping to wonder why, he surged to his feet and ripped one broadsword from its sheath. Holding it defensively with his uninjured hand, he shifted in front of the hatchling again and stared Raden dead in the eyes.

"Get. Back."

Startled by the unexpected steely glint in Jayce's eyes, Raden faltered—but only for a split second. Fingers tightening around the hilt of his dagger, he matched his friend's death glare with his own, equally as ferocious.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" Raden snarled, tapping his dagger sharply against the much larger blade of Jayce's sword. "Have you gone mad or don't you realise that's a _dragon_ you're protecting?"

The words slipped from Jayce's lips before he'd had a chance to think them. "It's _my_ dragon."

The ferocity in his friend's voice made Raden take a step back, though it was more out of surprise than fear. His incredulous eyes searched Jayce's face for any clue that this was a trick, a fallacy, a joke. Finding nothing but steely determination, his jaw dropped.

"You're joking. Tell me you're joking." There was a note of begging to Raden's voice, a far cry from the anger of earlier. When Jayce's only response was a death glare, Raden uttered his name in a wail caught between despair and disbelief. "Jayce! You can't seriously be thinking about keeping a dragon! This is…is…well, it's madness!"

"Why?" Jayce shot back, not loosening his grip on his sword. "Why shouldn't I keep it? I hatched it, that means it's mine! How many of the commanders can say they've got a pet dragon from the spoils of war?"

"None!" Raden exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Because none of them are stupid enough to hatch one, let alone keep it! What is going on in that head of yours, Jayce? Is there even a brain in there, or is it all just dust and cobwebs? Dragons aren't pets! They're the enemy!"

"Only because we make them so," Jayce muttered, more to himself than to Raden, though the angry ape heard, regardless.

"Oh, so now you're having traitorous thoughts, too?" Raden was practically bristling with anger, his matted fur almost standing on end. His voice was quivering with the effort to keep from yelling. "Hatching a dragon is one thing, but now you think we shouldn't even be fighting them? Dragons and apes have always been enemies as far back as anyone can remember. We were _born_ to hate them, just as they were born to hate us. If you want to throw aside your heritage and make _friends_ with them, you might as well go deliver your head to the King now."

"Would you quit ranting for a few seconds and let me speak?" Jayce erupted suddenly, frustrated, but the effect wasn't quite what he had in mind. If possible, Raden looked even angrier and he flung his arms out as though inviting Jayce to take a free swing.

"Speak then, Jayce! Go on, _speak_! Tell me what stupidity is going on inside your brainless head!"

"I didn't _mean_ to hatch this dragon," Jayce began, and glared at Raden when he opened his mouth to interrupt. "Yes, I thought it was a gem. Alright, maybe deep down I knew it was an egg, but I convinced myself it wasn't. Yes, I'm an idiot. I know. You don't have to keep telling me."

"I figured if I didn't, you might forget."

"Raden…"

"All right, I'm listening. Geez. Make it quick or I'll dissect the lizard myself."

"Maybe I didn't mean to hatch it," Jayce continued, ignoring Raden's comment, "but now that it is hatched, we might as well make the best of it."

"We? I am not part of this."

"Would you shut up?" Jayce snapped. Raden grimaced and feel silent again. Sighing, Jayce continued. "Do you know why we've been fighting the dragons for so long? Does anyone even remember the reason? Only the King knows, and he isn't speaking—at least, not to us expendables. Don't you ever get the feeling we're throwing our lives away for no reason? Maybe…maybe having a secret weapon wouldn't be such a bad idea. Having a foot in the other world… This dragon could come in handy. Think about it!"

Raden glared, "I'm thinking, and the only conclusion I'm coming to is execution. For _treason_, Jayce. One little hatchling isn't going to save you if the King finds out."

"Well, then he won't find out," Jayce replied with conviction, eliciting a groan from his friend. "Look, whatever you say isn't going to stop me from keeping this dragon. I hatched it. It's mine."

"You're a lost cause," Raden muttered, leaning back against the door again. "Alright, theoretically speaking, if you did keep the lizard, where would you keep it? How could you raise it without anyone else finding out? Because the instant even one ape catches wind of that dragon, news will travel to the King and you'll be a dead ape."

Jayce opened his mouth and closed it again, frowning. He sat down on his bed with a bump, staring at the bite marks on his hand and pondering the question. Behind him, the newly hatched dragon was squirming on the bed, trying to rid itself of the last of its egg sack. It was a few moments before Jayce looked up again.

"The hounds," he said in a voice bordering on triumph.

"What?"

Excitement was spreading across Jayce's face now and he sat up straighter as though a weight was lifting off his shoulders, "You said we've been reassigned to hound duty, right? I can raise it with them! They'll never have to know there's a dragon hatchling amongst the pups!"

Raden raised an eyebrow, "Right, and how are you going to hide the fact it's a dragon? And what happens when it gets bigger? Because I'm sure even you're smart enough to realise that dragons grow a lot bigger than Death Hounds."

"I'll think of something," Jayce muttered airily, twisting around to watch the red hatchling. He grinned as it flopped over to him and opened its mouth with a shrill shriek. It uttered a strange, growling sort of purr when he tickled its chin with the tip of a finger, only to quickly snatch his hand away when it tried to bite again.

"You're serious about this." It wasn't a question. When Jayce didn't answer, Raden sheathed his dagger with a particularly vicious thrust, his hands trembling. "You really are a lost cause."

"So…are you going to do anything about it?" Jayce asked cautiously, fingers curling around the hilt of his broadsword again. The hatchling squeaked behind him.

Raden considered him for what seemed like hours, a guarded look in his eyes. Then, at length, he straightened up and turned his back on his friend, resting one hand on the door handle.

"I'm going to pretend I never saw that lizard," he said in a hoarse voice. "You're my closest friend, Jayce. I don't want to see you executed for treason. But I am not getting mixed up in this. The next time you speak to me, you are going to pretend this encounter never happened. As far as I am concerned, that lizard does not exist and I never saw it. Don't forget that."

Without another word, he wrenched the door open and stepped out of the room, letting it clang shut behind him with a shriek of metal. For a long time, Jayce just sat and stared at the closed door, a tangle of confused emotions roiling in his chest. Then a high-pitched squeak breached the quiet, and tiny razor-sharp teeth sank into his finger for a second time that day. Cursing quietly, he raised his hand to eye level and stared at the little ruby lizard dangling from it.

"What am I going to do with you?"


	8. Silverback

**A/N: I seem to write these and then leave them for aaages before actually doing anything with them. But anyway... As last time, thanks for the reviews everyone. :P Good to see people enjoying this story. Now, let us continue with Jayce's tale, and an introduction to a new ape character with an ironic name who just sort of waltzed into the story without asking permission. They do that. Enjoy~**

**Chapter 7**

**Silverback**

For the rest of the day, Jayce kept the dragon hatchling in the same pocket he had carried its egg in. It squirmed and clawed at his fur through the fabric, but eventually settled down and fell asleep in a tangle of creases and folds. While he and the other apes unlucky enough to be given hound duty were introduced to the new litter of Death Hound pups they would be in charge of training, Jayce was mentally trying to figure out a way of hiding a dragon hatchling amongst them. He was also aware of the sideways glances Raden continuously shot at him, as though he thought Jayce couldn't see him.

The day passed slowly and at the end of it—along with a new set of bite marks from the less-than-friendly pups—Jayce had figured out the main difference between hounds and dragons. Fur. The parts of Death Hounds that weren't covered by dirty, matted fur were instead protected by leathery scales, very similar to that of dragons, if lacking a little lustre. All his dragon needed to look like a hound—at least from a distance—was a suit of fur on the front half of its body.

And the hounds shed enough fur each day to cover ten hatchlings.

As the other apes filed out of the dungeons where the hounds were kept, Jayce lingered behind. It didn't take long for him to find himself alone; the other apes were all too eager to get out of the Death Hounds' den. Quick as he could, Jayce scooped as much shed fur as possible into the pocket of his tunic that was not already occupied by a sleeping hatchling. Then, accompanied by the growls of irritable pups, he scuttled out of the dungeon.

Raden was waiting for him on the other side of the door.

"What were you doing?" he asked suspiciously as soon as Jayce joined him. Jayce opened his mouth to respond, only to remember the conversation they'd had that morning.

"Nothing," he said evasively instead, and Raden narrowed his eyes.

"Whatever. Come on, I'm starved."

Jayce didn't spend long at the mess hall. The other apes crowded around tattered wooden tables, conversing in loud voices over their bowls of questionable stew, but Jayce was too concerned with the stirring hatchling in his pocket to linger. Under Raden's disapproving gaze, he left the mess hall with a steaming bowl of stew in his hands and retreated to his room.

Minutes later, he was sitting on his bed with a little red lizard on his lap and shed hound fur spilling from his pocket. The hatchling lapped greedily at the bowl of stew—or what remained of it after Jayce had gulped down his share. Jayce had no idea what dragons usually ate, let alone dragon hatchlings. Meat, he assumed—he also assumed there was meat of some sort in the stew, though that in itself was questionable. Nevertheless, the hatchling didn't seem bothered by whatever unknown substance the majority of the stew was made up of.

"At least you're easy enough to feed," Jayce mused aloud, scratching the top of the hatchling's head with the tip of a finger. It growled and bit the edge of the bowl, tiny teeth sinking into wood. Jayce sighed. "But I don't know anything about dragons. I don't even know if you're a girl or a boy. I guess you can't tell me."

The hatchling growled again and freed its teeth from the rim of the bowl, squirming deeper into Jayce's lap and clawing at his tunic. Smirking, he slipped his hands under its tiny body and lifted it to eye level. Bright green eyes stared almost imploringly into his and a tiny red paw batted at his nose.

"You know what you need? A name. But how am I supposed to name you if I don't know whether you're a boy or a girl?"

The hatchling wriggled and clicked its teeth together, inches from Jayce's nose. The ape made a face, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out, as though to tease the tiny dragon. It merely growled.

"I could call you Ruby," Jayce said after a moment of deliberation. "You know, since that was what I thought your egg was…"

A tiny paw smacked the end of his nose and he yelped as its tiny claws drew little beads of blood. The hatchling squeaked. Jayce grimaced.

"That doesn't work if you're a boy, though, huh? What, have you got any better ideas? I can't just call you 'dragon'."

For a moment the hatchling's bright green eyes stared solemnly into his and it ceased squirming in his grip. Jayce raised an eyebrow as it opened its mouth. He could see every one of its tiny, needle-sharp teeth. Then a red glow shimmered at the back of its throat and a small ball of fire shot from its mouth with an almighty cough. Jayce yelped and dropped the hatchling as the fire smouldered on his forehead and the acrid smell of burnt fur filled the cabin.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" The ape yelped, ripping his burning headband off without hesitation. He quickly patted the fire out on both his fur and the headband, but by the time he had, both were blackened by a layer of ash. Jayce sighed as he stared at his ruined headband. "Aww man, you charred it…"

The hatchling pawed at his wrist and he lowered his blackened headband to its eyelevel, looking mildly irritated. "Look! Charred!"

"Arrrrr," growled the hatchling, nipping at the burnt fabric. Jayce stared.

"Char," he said, uttering the word as though it was the answer to all his problems. "That's what I'll call you! Doesn't matter if you're boy or girl. You can be Char."

The hatchling growled and smacked the headband from his hand, fastening its tiny teeth around the charred fabric and starting to tear it to shreds. Jayce wasn't game enough to try to snatch it back.

"Well…for now, anyway," he added lamely, watching his favourite headband disappear before his eyes. By the time the newly-named Char was finished with it, only shredded pieces of fabric remained. Then, looking confused that its new plaything was gone, the hatchling wriggled around and stared imploringly up at Jayce, as though expecting him to have an entire stash of headbands to tear up. When he just stared at it exasperatedly, the hatchling whined and took to biting his tunic instead.

"I _really_ need to learn more about dragons," Jayce sighed.

* * *

The next day was full of brainstorming for Jayce. How was he going to keep Char hidden? How was he going to learn more about dragons? How was he supposed to make a suit out of the Death Hound fur he'd already collected? At least that one seemed less complicated, but for the life of him he could figure it out. Maybe he could glue the fur to Char's scales with resin. But what would that do to a dragon's scales? Jayce wasn't keen to find out.

So, after another day of training Death Hounds—which mostly involved trying not to lose fingers—with Char safely nestled in his pocket, Jayce decided to do the one thing he always did when he had no idea what to do. Ask Raden. He only hoped his best friend would be at least a little forthcoming.

Char was snoring in his pocket when Jayce finally found a chance to talk to Raden alone that evening. He jumped from his bed the instant Raden walked into the room and closed the door behind him, removing his headband tiredly. He looked up almost irritably to find Jayce staring expectantly at him, as though waiting for something.

"Thought you'd be sleeping by now," Raden grunted, moving over to sit down on the edge of his bed. He rested his cheek on his hand, propped his elbow on his knee, and considered the ape that was his closest friend. "What's up?"

"I need help," Jayce started, and already Raden cut him off.

"Don't you always?" he drawled. Jayce chose to ignore that.

"If I'm going to keep a dragon and keep it hidden, I need to know more about them," he blurted out in a rush. He was about to continue, but Raden didn't give him a chance.

"What did I say the night that lizard hatched?" he asked venomously, his reddish-brown eyes darkening with anger. "I _never_ saw it, and you will pretend that I know _nothing_ about your little pet."

Jayce groaned and rubbed his forehead, "Alright, alright. Fine then. _Hypothetically_ speaking…where would I go to learn more about dragons?"

Raden didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked like he would very much like to beat some sense into his friend. Literally. "Hypo… I don't even know where you _learned_ that word."

Jayce waved a hand impatiently, "I've heard the commanders use it before. Now can you help me or not?"

There was a brief moment of silence, then, "_Hypothetically_ speaking…"

Jayce made a face at Raden's mocking tone of voice, but the brown-eyed ape wasn't finished yet.

"If you want to know more about anything, you ask someone who knows."

"So…who knows?"

Raden leaned forward, eyes glinting. "The old one."

Jayce stared, "No way. You are _not_ telling me to ask old Silverback."

"Hey, no one knows more about dragons than he does," Raden sat back and stretched his hands behind his head before flopping down on his bed. "Even the commanders ask him when they need information."

"But isn't he a bit…strange?" Jayce asked uncertainly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. For a moment Raden was silent, until he pushed himself back up into a sitting position and met Jayce's eyes with an ominous grin.

"Strange is an understatement. Some even say he's _insane_."

Jayce felt a shiver run down his spine, and his fur prickled in response. Deep in his pocket, the sleeping Char shifted briefly and was still. "And yet you think he's the best choice to go to?"

A wide grin cracked his friend's face, "No, he's the only one. But who cares? We're only talking _hypothetically_."—Jayce grimaced at the use of the word he'd brought up again—"We're lowly soldiers, we don't _need_ to know anything about dragons except how to kill them. So what's it matter?"

Raden looked pointedly at him, eyes dancing tauntingly, and Jayce scowled. He should have known asking his friend would lead to unsatisfactory answers. No one except the commanders ever sought old Silverback out unless it was absolutely necessary. But the dragon hatchling stirring in his pocket reminded Jayce that, for once, it was.

* * *

Though the general consensus was to stay well away from the old ape they called Silverback, or the Old One, it was common knowledge to all apes where he could be found. After all, it was always helpful to know where _not_ to go. Jayce found himself questioning his sanity the following evening as he strode nervously through the gloomy corridors above the dungeons. All of the other apes were probably sitting in the warm, brightly-lit mess hall at that very moment, scarfing down stew and discussing another day's work, whether it be patrol or hound duty. But the damp halls here were neither warm nor comforting.

Puddles of icy cold liquid had cumulated between cracks in the dark stone, and Jayce's feet kept slipping. He hoped it was water—or at least a substance that wasn't poisonous. The way was lit only by green flame torches set at intervals along the walls, and they bathed the entire corridor in a pale, sickly hue, casting eerie shadows across the stone. Jayce's skin prickled with cold, his matted fur standing on end.

"Where do they get green fire from anyway?" he mumbled aloud in an attempt to keep the gloomy silence at bay. The torches seemed to flicker in response, warping his shadow into strange, contorted shapes on the wall.

"Dragons don't breathe green fire… Do they?"

Only the spitting of the torches and the hollow tapping of his feet answered Jayce's question. Seeking comfort from the only other living thing around, the ape kept his hand on the warm form of the dragon hatchling within his pocket. Edgily, he made his way down the corridor towards the dark opening at the very end, where he found a set of roughly-hewn stone stairs extending up into darkness. Nervously patting Char through his tunic, Jayce cast one last glance at the green-lit corridor behind him before starting up the stairs.

It was slow going. The steps were cold and slippery with mould, and the edges of some crumbled under Jayce's paws. By the time he reached the top of his stairs, Jayce was panting and he could see his breath misting in the frigid air. Two green-flame torches on either side of the threshold to the stairwell greeted him like silent sentinels.

Nervously, he stepped through.

"Hello?" Jayce called into the darkness. There was little light beyond the stairwell and the torches there, except for an old iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It too glowed with green fire, but it cast only the very dimmest of light upon the room. At first only silence answered Jayce, and he nervously tried to examine his dark surroundings.

Judging from how high up the chandelier was, he had just stepped into a very large cavern. The way his voice rang through it gave him the feeling that it was mostly empty. Still, he could see large dark shapes around the walls and in the very centre, through he could not quite make out what they were. He wondered if there was anyone here.

Quite suddenly there was a rustle of parchment and the swish of fabric, and Jayce jumped in alarm when he saw a dark shape moving in the shadows near the other side of the cavern. It shuffled towards the centre of the room, moving with a slow, shambling gait, and then light washed over the entire cavern. Candles all around the walls flickered to life, green fire dancing upon their wicks, and at last Jayce got a good look at his surroundings.

The dark shapes he had seen were in fact large bookshelves standing solemnly side by side all around the walls. In the very centre was a tall wooden desk, upon which rested a number of curious artefacts that Jayce could not make out from here, and rolls upon rolls of parchment. But what drew his eyes then were neither the books nor the cluttered mess upon the desk, but the huge ape hunched on the other side of it.

Jayce estimated he had to be at least as big as one of the commanders, though his emaciated appearance suggested otherwise. Silvery-grey fur covered him from head to toe, and the normally bright colours of an ape's face were dulled and fading. His muscles were virtually non-existent, and his own skin seemed to hang off his skeletal frame in robes. A pair of alarmingly bright grey eyes was settled above his thin snout and hollow cheeks, and a single fang curved upwards from his jutting lower jaw. He was not a pretty beast to look at.

"Step into the light," the old ape ordered suddenly, in a strangely smooth but deep voice that caught Jayce off guard. "I can't see you when you're lurking in the shadows like that."

Gulping, Jayce stumbled forward and tried to look innocent. Char shifted in his pocket again, and he hoped dearly that old Silverback wouldn't notice the hatchling's presence. A wry grin cracked the old ape's withered face and he beckoned Jayce closer with one skeletal hand, which seemed to be little more than skin stretched over bone.

"Come closer, little soldier," Silverback said, and Jayce found his legs seemed to move of their own accord towards the desk. "I don't get many visitors…"

"…Um…" mumbled Jayce, forgetting what he was supposed to say to the emaciated ape. He stopped on the other side of the desk, and couldn't stop his eyes from slipping away from Silverback's withered visage to examine the mess of artefacts. Shards of gem littered the desk around old pieces of parchment, interspersed with grubby glass vials filled with bright liquids that glowed in the firelight like spirit gems. A tiny iron model of a dragon rocked backwards and forwards on a thin frame that suspended it above the desk, its miniature metal wings spread wide.

"Do you like my dragon?" Silverback asked suddenly, and Jayce tore his eyes away from the ever-moving model, startled. He found the old ape watching him with amusement and thought he heard a low chuckle from deep in his wiry chest. Silently, Silverback reached out and tapped the iron dragon with one skeletal finger. It rocked backwards and forwards violently, as though caught in a wind storm, before settling back into its usual rhythm.

"It flies just like the real thing," the silvery-furred ape said proudly, watching the rocking model almost fondly. Jayce secretly agreed with the apes who had called Silverback insane. A few beats of silence passed, in which the candles flickered and the tiny iron dragon flew on its eternal journey to nowhere. Then Silverback straightened up and looked pointedly at Jayce.

"You have a problem, little ape."

"What?" Jayce asked, startled. His hand inched inconspicuously towards the warm lump in his pocket.

Silverback turned away and began rifling through the piles of parchment on his desk, speaking as he did so, "You wouldn't be here if you didn't have a problem. I showed you my dragon. Now show me yours."

Jayce froze. His mouth fell open and his paw clamped protectively over the warm lump in his pocket. Char squirmed and started to claw at the fabric, no doubt having been awoken by Jayce's sudden grip. But he held the hatchling in place, suddenly terrified. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

Silverback chuckled, but it was not a menacing laugh. His alarmingly bright eyes shifted back to the smaller ape and he nodded towards his pocket. "Don't play ignorant; I don't plan on hurting your little friend. But I think it wants to get out of your pocket."

Blankly, Jayce stared. It was impossible. How could the ancient ape possibly have known? And, more unnerving still, if he knew…then who else did? A sudden queasiness, like icy water flowing into his stomach, made the young ape want to drop everything and run. Sweat formed in the palms of his hands and his voice all but failed him. Silverback's eyes bored intensely into his own, and suddenly Jayce was little more than a statue.

Until Char bit down on the hand that was stopping it from escaping its prison of fabric.

Jayce yelped and wrenched his hand away from the source of the pain, but the hatchling came with it. Char's jaws loosened and the tiny dragon fell—straight into Silverback's outstretched, bony hands. Startled, Jayce made a jerky move as though he wanted to snatch the hatchling back, but the old ape had already lifted it out of his reach. It was all he could do to watch, that sickening feeling spreading in his gut.

"This is a fine specimen," said the emaciated ape, lifting the hatchling to eyelevel. "Such perfect scales… Those horns look like they will grow in nicely. And such bright eyes…"

Char snapped at the tip of a bony finger, and Silverback chuckled. "Feisty, too. Does she have a name?"

Finally, Jayce managed to unstick his tongue, "Sh…she?"

"Well, of course," said Silverback matter-of-factly. "What you've got here is the perfect example of a fine young dragoness. Surely you've given her a name?"

Jayce opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. At least Char didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but seeing it—no, _her_—held in the hands of an ape most others called insane was unnerving to say the least. His hands twitched again and he wished he was holding the hatchling instead. Silverback peered around the tiny dragoness, his gaunt face expectant.

"Well?"

"Char," Jayce croaked, forcing the word from his stunned lips. His throat felt like it was full of dust. Gulping, he took the chance to add a few more words before he froze up again. "I…didn't know whether it was a boy or a girl, so I just… Char."

His tongue was threatening to trip over itself, so he shut his mouth and fell silent.

"Rrrrr," said Char, wiggling in Silverback's hands. She twisted, as though trying to get back to Jayce. Almost reluctantly, the ancient ape lowered his hands and held the hatchling out the smaller ape. With shaking hands, Jayce took her and held her to his chest. She burrowed into his tunic without another sound, but remained peering at Silverback with one bright green eye.

"She seems attached to you," Silverback observed, his silvery eyes narrowing slightly.

"I hatched her," Jayce blurted out, and then quickly shut his mouth, aghast.

Silverback chuckled wryly and turned back to his desk, his bony hands moving over documents and crystals as though searching for something. "That much is clear. Two days ago, correct?"

Yet again, Jayce's mouth fell open and he stared blankly at the silver-furred ape. "How…how did…"

"I can smell a dragon a mile away. It wasn't hard to tell when one hatched so close."

Jayce wasn't sure whether to consider this creepy or not. Regardless, he hugged Char closer to his chest all the same. She felt warm and delicate in his hands, and he could feel every breath pushing against her tiny ribs. For the first time, the feeling of something living held so close to his heart felt strangely right.

Silverback straightened up moments later and turned back to the ape and his hatchling. There was something small and glowing in his hand, and Jayce squinted suspiciously. Moments later, he realised it was a shard of gem, about as long as one of his fingers and twice as thick. It glowed with a bright green light that seemed somehow less eerie than the green flames that danced on the candle wicks around the cavern.

"May I see her?" the old ape asked, gesturing towards the hatchling nestled to Jayce's chest.

The younger ape tensed his jaw defiantly, jerked his head at the gem and demanded, "What's that?"

"Nothing that will hurt your little friend, I assure you," Silverback said with an unexpectedly kindly smile. "Just a little test."

Still, Jayce didn't loosen his grip on the hatchling. "What sort of test?"

"One that will show us what sort of element—if there is one—your little dragoness will eventually control."

"She already spat fire at me before."

Silverback raised his eyebrows in apparent interest, "Hatchling fire? Intriguing. Small elemental bursts are often common in the first few days after a dragon hatches, particularly if they have a very strong bond with their particular element. Those who do tend to have stronger elemental attacks in later years. Still, this test should confirm that. Come now, it won't hurt her."

Jayce hesitated. "What does she have to do?"

Silverback held out the shard of green gem, "All I need is for her to have contact with this crystal just for…say…half a minute. Nothing more."

"…Fine."

Hoping he wasn't going to regret this, Jayce gently peeled the tiny dragoness away from his chest and pointed her towards the crystal. Her huge eyes quickly fixated on the glowing gem and, in childish interest, she reached out a paw towards it. Jayce flinched when her paw met the glowing surface of the gem, but nothing happened. He expected Char to start playing with the gem like she had with his headband the other day, but instead she remained rigid in his hands, one paw on the crystal, her eyes trained unblinkingly upon it. After a moment, Jayce began to feel unnerved.

"What's…?" he began, but Silverback held up a paw and silenced him. He was watching the cherry-red hatchling intently.

Then the gem pulsed gently, Char blinked, and paw and crystal parted ways. Jayce hugged the shivering dragoness to his chest while Silverback held the shard up to eye-level. To Jayce, it looked as though nothing had changed at all. But there was a twinkle in the old ape's eye that said otherwise.

"As suspected, she is a fire dragon," he said, twisting the crystal around to eye it from all angles. "And a very talented one at that, when she grows. Look here."

The emaciated ape lowered the gem to Jayce's eye-level and he saw what had not been there before. Inside the translucent green substance of the crystal, a tiny red flame was dancing, flickering like it was alive. But he didn't get a very long look at it before Silverback turned back to his desk and placed the gem away amongst his piles of old parchment.

"Not all two-day-old dragons can generate a flame that strong," he said as he did so.

Jayce didn't know what to say to that. In fact, he wasn't sure he remembered what he wanted to say at all. The shock of Char's sudden revealing and Silverback's unusual hospitality had rendered his mind utterly numb. Lucky for him, the ancient ape seemed to be much sharper of wit than he felt at the moment. Only a few beats of silence had passed by the time Silverback turned back and eyed his guest expectantly.

"What did you need?" he asked bluntly. Jayce stared. The dam broke; words gushed forth.

"I need to know everything I can about dragons, I need to know how I'm going to take care of a hatchling and keep it hidden, I need to know what she eats, how quickly she grows, I need to know everything, and you won't tell anyone, will you, because if you do, I'm so dead it's not funny…" the words rushed from his mouth in a tangled stream, almost too quick for his mind to think them. But then Silverback held up a hand to stop him, and Jayce faltered, finally taking a breath.

"Your secret is safe with me," said the old ape, silvery eyes twinkling. "I find dragons fascinating, don't you?"

When Jayce just stared at him with a half-open mouth, Silverback continued unconcernedly. He gestured at the bookshelves that lined the walls around his cavern, gazing almost lovingly at the hundreds of books and tomes stacked tightly within, illuminated eerily by green firelight.

"These books will tell you everything you'll ever need to know about dragons," he said with a kind of maddened grin. "But to read every one of them would take a lifetime! It did for me!"

Silverback turned his wide, silvery eyes back to Jayce, a wizened grin cracking his face in two. The younger ape stared dumbly at him before loosening his tongue.

"Yeah, I…can tell."

"But you," the old ape added, ignoring Jayce's comment, "don't have a lifetime!"

"I figured. So…can you help me?"

"Oh…there is always a way to help." Smiling that same strange grin, Silverback lumbered over to one of the giant wooden bookshelves and, with hardly a glance, plucked a thick, leather-bound tome from the shelf. He took a moment to brush a layer of dust from the cover before returning to Jayce and placing the tome on his desk.

"This," he said, gesturing to the massive book, "will tell you all the basics you need to know to take care of your little Char. I'd suggest you get reading."

"Um…"

Looking awkward, Jayce edged towards the desk and watched his shadow fall across the thick tome. Its leathery cover was a dark shade of red and there were copper-coloured words engraved across it—at least, he thought they were words. For all he knew, they could have been the remains of squashed bugs that had been flattened by the heavy book long ago. Char shifted in his hands and he saw her gazing curiously at the tome. Quickly, he placed a hand on her snout—just in case she set the book alight, just like she had his headband.

Silverback was looming expectantly behind them, and Jayce couldn't help but grimace. Shaking his head, he turned around and looked up at the wizened face of the old ape. Up close, his countless wrinkles gave the impression that his face was ready to fall apart at the seams. Maybe it already had, and he'd somehow managed to stitch it back together again. Jayce suppressed a grin at the mental image, but it faded quickly when his mind returned to the matter at hand.

"Well this is all well and good, but…I can't read."


	9. Dragon among Hounds

**A/N: Ooohh, an update. Had a teensy bit of writer's block for this part of the story, hence the delay, but whateverrrr... Enjoy some random ape history and stuff. :3**

**Chapter 8**

**Dragon among Hounds**

"I've never taught someone to read before," Silverback mused as he rustled through several old sheets of parchment that had been stashed away in one of the drawers of his desk. At length, he lifted an old, much-worn book from the draw and held it up to eye level before blowing off the layer of dust that had long ago settled on its cover. With a wrinkled grin, he turned his gaze back to his charge. "But as they say, you're never too old to learn. Or to teach."

Chuckling croakily deep in his chest, he set the book down beside the massive tome he had placed on the desk earlier. It was much smaller, but no more enticing to the younger ape in the room.

"You're serious about this?" Jayce asked dubiously, petting Char with a distracted look on his face. "You're actually going to teach me?"

Silverback passed him a deadpan stare, "Who else do you think is going to teach you to read? King Gaul?"

The sarcasm in the old ape's voice was enough to set Jayce's teeth on edge, but he bit his tongue to refrain from spitting out an angry retort. Offending the one ape who knew about his scaly secret did not seem like a particularly bright idea. Swallowing his irritation, he replied in a voice drenched with scepticism.

"But what's in it for _you_?"

"Opportunity, research, purpose," Silverback rattled off almost nonchalantly, resting a withered paw on the old tome's cover. His silver eyes, still creepy to Jayce, lingered on Char's half-hidden form. "It has been too long since I have had the chance to study a live dragon, and too long since I have been hidden away among these dusty shelves, of use only when the commanders brave my 'shadowy lair' for a piece of vital information. Too long I have been feared and despised for my _affinity_ for dragons. Did they ever think I might grow tired of living in solitude, of this inner exile? Most believe it was self-imposed, but until they have tried existing as little more than a living relic, they will never truly understand. I grow weary of living in shadow."

The old ape's voice grew louder, stronger and fiercer with every word, and on instinct Jayce shrank away, covering Char further with both paws and tunic. The hatchling nuzzled deeper into the fabric, hiding from the sight of Silverback's wizened face. Green firelight reflected in the white of his sunken eyes, and though the sight was eerie, it was not insanity Jayce saw in that gaze—it was the frustration of a lonely being trapped in exile within his own home. A being tired of an existence that had been decided for him.

The other apes were wrong. Silverback was not insane. At least, not in the way they believed.

The withered ape blinked and straightened, as though coming out of a reverie, and the intensity on his face faded to be replaced with a wrinkled but warm smile. "I will teach you to read if you will allow me to help you raise your hatchling. It is an opportunity I cannot pass up."

Jayce stared, "So…your condition for helping me is that…you want to help me more? Sure…I guess."

Silverback chuckled wheezily, "I believe this is a case of us being able to assist each other, little soldier."

"And stop calling me 'little'. My name's Jayce."

"Very well, little Jayce, are you prepared to begin your training?"

"Training?!" Jayce yelped in alarm. "I thought you were just going to teach me to read!"

Silverback grinned almost wickedly. "Not all training is of the physically exhausting kind, but I assure you…when your intellect is bursting with information it cannot contain and it feels as though your mind may collapse in on itself under the struggle to understand, _then_…we will have only just begun."

* * *

For the next two hours, while his stomach grumbled angrily at being made to skip dinner, Jayce studied what Silverback called the 'alphabet'. He was forced to recite it, speaking each separate letter aloud, at least ten times before the ancient ape was satisfied that he would remember. If that wasn't enough, he was then ordered to copy down the letters with a quill on a piece of scrap parchment. His writing was shaky and illegible, and Jayce had no choice but to repeat each letter as carefully as possible until it even looked remotely similar to the ones in the book.

"Be glad I'm not teaching you Draconic Runes!" Silverback exclaimed while Jayce grumbled under his breath at the scribble that was supposed to have been a legible letter. "It is a beautiful language, mind you, but much, much more complicated than the Common Script."

Jayce groaned and dropped the quill, flexing his aching paw. "Am I done? I didn't even get supper tonight."

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you came requesting my assistance."

"I didn't think you'd keep me here all night!"

"There is a lot you have to learn. I decided it was imperative we begin immediately." Silverback shook his head at Jayce's disgruntled look. "But I suppose you've done enough for one night."

"_Finally_!" Jayce stood up from the rickety stool he'd been sitting on and reached for Char, who had fallen asleep in a nest of crumbled pieces of parchment in the middle of the desk. The hatchling hardly stirred as Jayce gathered her into his paws and cradled her against his chest.

"Hold up," Silverback interrupted, holding up a withered paw, "there's one more thing I want you to do before you leave tonight."

"Another?" Jayce's face and shoulders drooped at the same time, his jaw falling slack with disbelief. The old ape chuckled.

"I am sure you will find it interesting enough," he said, placing a hand on the cover of the huge tome he'd originally presented to Jayce. Though he recognised most of the letters now, the words written on the cover still looked like gibberish to the young ape.

"You see…" Silverback continued, nodding at Char, "while you may have given our little dragon friend a nickname, a true dragon name is something far more meaningful than anything an unknowing ape could bestow. Dragons do not choose names lightly, as they are something to be cherished throughout life. Many believe a dragon's name to be tied to their fate. It is for that reason that I want you to find a true name for your little hatchling."

"Erm…great, but…how do I do that? I mean, it's not like I know anything about dragon names. Unless you do."

"Oh, I know a fair bit, but for the rest…" Silverback gestured to the book under his hand, "this will tell us what we need. Take a look."

Under Jayce's curious gaze, the wizened ape flipped the book open, paused on one of the first pages until he apparently found something, and then skipped a large chunk of pages until the book fell open near the centre. Jayce edged closer to get a better look, but though the letters were more familiar than they had been before, it still meant nothing to him.

"This is a list of common suffixes for dragon names," Silverback explained, seeing Jayce's bemused expression. "It explains the meanings associated with them. Perhaps you will find something fitting for our little friend?"

"Right…you're gonna have to read them, though."

Silverback's smile widened, "Why don't you pick one and I shall read it?"

"Er…alright," Jayce jabbed a finger at one line near the top of the left page. "That one."

"Suffix '-an'," Silverback read out, "meaning 'fierce; of the wild'."

"Aha," Jayce glanced down at Char, asleep in the crook of his elbow. She didn't look remotely fierce or wild. Shaking his head, he pointed at another one, this one much further down the page.

"Suffix '-dor'," said the old ape, "meaning 'protective; strength'."

Again, Jayce shook his head and pointed to another.

"Suffix, '-us', meaning 'wise; of leadership'."

They went through several more after that, including '-il' meaning 'proud; confident', and '-er' or '-eer' meaning 'swift; unpredictable'. It was nearly a quarter of an hour later that Jayce found one that seemed to fit.

"Suffix '-la'," read Silverback, "meaning 'luck; of good fortune'."

Jayce paused, eying Char again, his eyes alight with sudden interest. "Luck, huh? Well…I guess she is pretty lucky. I mean, if she'd been in the temple with the other eggs, she'd have been smashed like them. But I found her… Wonder what would have happened if one of the commanders had found her instead."

"It may have been good fortune that brought her to you, little Jayce, but perhaps it was fate, too." Silverback's silvery eyes twinkled eerily, and Jayce felt a shiver ripple up his spine.

"I guess… Still, it's kinda fitting." He smiled at the sleeping hatchling, then realised something. "But…what exactly _is_ a suffix? What do we do with it?"

Silverback chuckled, "Trust a soldier to ask the important questions last. A suffix is an element added to the end of a word—in this case, a name; the name you have already given her."

Jayce hesitated. "So, Char…la? Charla."

He tasted the name on his tongue, gazing at the ruby hatchling as he did so, and a smile crawled onto his face. "Yeah, I like it."

"Then may the ancestors watch over her," Silverback said, laying a paw on the tiny dragon's forehead. Charla's eyelids flickered but did not open. "And may they smile upon her name, and grant her good fortune in the future."

Jayce stared, "Ancestors?"

"It is an ancient dragon prayer," the old ape explained, turning away and gently closing the massive tome. "They prayed to their ancestors in times of misfortune and danger. Perhaps you should remember it. Now, you are free to go. I would suggest you keep your little Charla out of sight for now. Meet me here tomorrow evening."

Jayce nodded wordlessly, unable to find a way to word his thanks, and slipped the sleeping Charla into his pocket. Then, glancing once more at Silverback, he nodded to the silvery-grey ape and slipped out of the green-lit cavern. The old ape's eyes followed him as he descended the stairs into darkness.

* * *

The room was dark when Jayce pried open the heavy iron door and slipped in as quietly as he could. A dim lantern on the rickety wooden table between the two beds was the only light in the room, but it was enough to illuminate the whites of Raden's eyes in the darkness.

"Where have you _been_?" he hissed, sitting up in bed. Jayce tried not to shrink under his glare.

"Nowhere," he said, a little too quickly.

"You weren't at supper," Raden accused, scowling.

"I wasn't…" Jayce's stomach finished the sentence for him with a low growl that was too easily heard in the darkness. He groaned. "Never mind. There was…stuff I had to do."

Raden's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You didn't actually take my advice did you? I mean, it's not like I was being serious. No _sane_ ape actually goes to see the Old One. I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Suddenly feeling defiant, Jayce shrugged and moved over to his bed. "So what if I did?"

A beat of silence passed between Jayce lying down on his bed and Raden replying. His voice was quiet and bitter when he did. "That dragon whelp is going to be the death of you."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, until a thought struck him. He closed his mouth, thought for a moment, and smirked. Rolling onto his side to meet Raden's eyes across the room, he replied, "What dragon?"

The other ape scowled and flipped over onto his other side, turning his back on Jayce in doing so. "Whatever. Just get some sleep."

But though Raden drifted off within a few minutes, Jayce stayed awake for far longer, staring into the tiny flickering flame of the lantern on the table. He carefully extracted the sleeping Charla from his pocket and laid her against his chest, wary lest he roll onto her in the middle of the night. She slept peacefully against his warmth, head tucked into her tiny, stubby wings. Jayce watched the firelight play across her ruby scales until his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open.

The last thought he had before he drifted off was a question that had plagued his mind even before Charla's egg had fallen into his hands. Why were dragons and apes enemies? And where would it all end?

* * *

"What do you think?" Silverback asked proudly, gesturing at his handiwork.

Jayce held a paw under his chin, an odd look on his face as he considered the sight before him. It was the evening after his first visit to the old ape the previous day, and Silverback had had a surprise for him when he had arrived. It was a little fur suit that he had sewed himself using pieces of scrap fabric and the rancid shed fur of Death Hound pups. It fitted over Charla's front half perfectly and gave the illusion that, like the Death Hounds, her head, neck, chest and forelegs were all covered in matted, greyish-brown fur. Her stubby wings were tucked under the fabric, easily hidden from view.

Right now she was crawling around the floor of Silverback's colossal cavern, snapping at the bugs that crawled to and fro between cracks and crevices. Her tail swished eagerly with every pounce, and her huge eyes were like chips of emerald spirit gem. Jayce bit his lip.

"It's cute," he grunted. Charla growled and pounced on a large black bug with a fluorescent green spot on its head, missing and flipping over onto her now-furry back. Jayce's eyebrow twitched. "Too cute."

"It's effective," Silverback corrected as Jayce retrieved the playful hatchling from the ground before she could eat the potentially poisonous bug. "The other Death Hounds will accept her since she smells like them, and most apes shouldn't notice any difference as long as they don't get too close. Of course, it will get harder to hide her true heritage as she grows—her wings and horns will develop, and a blade will grow on the end of her tail—but for now, it should be enough to hide her from any prying eyes."

"How quickly will she grow?" Jayce asked nervously, trying to keep a hold on the squirming hatchling. Charla wriggled out of his hands and leapt for the bug again, but it scuttled out of reach into a crack between stones, and she busied herself for the next few minutes trying to fish it out.

"Much slower than a Death Hound," Silverback said, sounding almost grim. "By the time the pups have reached maturity, they'll already be four times her size. She will not reach the size of a young adult hound until, say…at least ten years old. However, she will learn the art of speaking far sooner, and this may be troublesome."

"Right… Death Hounds can't talk." Jayce sighed and sat down on a rickety stool with a bump, watching Charla insert her paw into a crack in the floor in an attempt to reach the bug. "It really is going to be hard to keep her hidden, isn't it?"

"It is," Silverback agreed. "But with my help, it will not be impossible. We shall cross those bridges when we come to them. But for now, it's time to continue your lessons."

Jayce tried to suppress a groan.

After a half hour of going over the 'alphabet' again, Jayce learned how to read and write his own name—then Charla's and Silverback's. It wasn't an entirely unenjoyable lesson, and at one point Charla become interested in the way his quill moved over the parchment. He grinned as she tried to smack the feathery utensil out of his paw, leaving dusty pawprints across the parchment and smearing the shaky letters that had formed the word 'Jayce'.

"She'll be writing herself soon enough," Silverback chuckled, lifting the hatchling out of the way before she had a chance to get her jaws around the quill.

"I didn't know dragons could write," Jayce mused, smoothing the ruffled feather of his quill.

"Oh, they're quite studious beings, I assure you. Most apes would like to believe they're murderous beasts made for war and battle, but that is hardly the case. Fearsome in battle, yes, but wise, loyal and possessing intelligence far beyond that of the common ape." The old ape held Charla up to eye level. "You'll be a smart one, one day."

Jayce set down his quill slowly, hesitant to ask the question that was still fresh in his mind. He wasn't even sure if Silverback would have the answer, but then, who would? The only other ape that came to mind was the King himself, and if Jayce even mentioned such thoughts in Gaul's presence he had a feeling his head and his body would not be connected for much longer. But no one knew more about dragons—and no other ape would be more willing to tell him about them.

"It might seem like a stupid question, but…" Jayce hesitated, then forged onwards. "Why are dragons and apes enemies? Why are we fighting them? What for?"

Silverback lowered Charla to the ground gently and straightened without looking at the smaller ape. Jayce tried to scrutinize his expression, but it was hard to tell in the dim green lighting. The creases on his brow could have been anger, concern or thought—he wasn't sure which.

"You ask dangerous questions, little soldier." His voice was so grim that Jayce didn't have the guts to complain about the nickname again.

When Silverback didn't continue for another moment, Jayce spoke again nervously. "I…guess the answers are dangerous too, right?"

Silverback chuckled humourlessly. "Some knowledge is dangerous. The answers you seek may be a dangerous burden in times to come. Are you sure you would not rather live in ignorance, like all the rest?"

Jayce scowled, "I'm raising a dragon in secret under the King's nose—I don't think a few answers are going to endanger me more than I already am."

"Perhaps. Very well, little Jayce, if that is your wish…"

Silverback sank into his wooden throne on the other side of his desk, rested his elbows in front of him, and considered the young ape on the other side. Green-fire candles flickered between them. Jayce felt an eerie chill creep under his skin.

"The feud between dragons and apes is an ancient one, and its beginning is one that not even King Gaul himself remembers. It begins not, as the dragons believe, with the creature they now call the Dark Master, but with a rivalry that began many generations before…"

Jayce opened his mouth to ask who this 'Dark Master' was, but Silverback held up a wizened paw and silenced him before he could speak. Gulping, Jayce closed his mouth and listened.

"Over a thousand years ago, this world was known as the United Realms—a place where creatures of all species could live in harmony as long as they respected the territory of their neighbours. Some formed alliances, such as the moles and the dragons, others kept to themselves in solitude, like the cheetahs and the apes. All species held their own realms of territory, some bigger than others. As it was, the two species with the largest areas to call their own were none other than the dragons and the apes."

"Relations between dragons and apes were not always hostile. In the old days, trade was common, and many even travelled between territories to share news and information. But dragonkind grew too fast for their own good and, bit by bit, their territory became simply too small. Their borders expanded inch by inch, but it was some time before apekind noticed. When they did, a fierce argument erupted between the separate kingdoms—one that would have no real resolve, and would lead into the first serious war the United Realms had witnessed."

"Blood was spilt on both sides for over five years, until at last victory was attained—by dragons. The apes were scattered from their territory and moved further into uninhabited territory, harsh and barren, where the dragons would not follow. Shortly afterwards, the current leader of the dragon race passed a decree. The United Realms had officially become the Dragon Realms."

"So, is that it?" Jayce interrupted, blinking himself out of the trance he'd been falling into. "They drove us out and stole our territory, so now we're trying to take it back?"

"Oh no, make no mistake," Silverback said darkly, "that is only the beginning of the story. You see, what followed was a series of far more important events—events that begin with a very unusual dragon egg. For the dragons, this is where the tale begins."

"The egg was laid only a hundred years after the defeat of the apes and the rise of the Dragon Realms. It was to hatch into a special sort of dragon—one that could control all the elements. The dragons believed him to be a saviour, but he grew instead into a tyrant. He was an unstoppable, dangerous force, and in their fear, the dragon elders banished him to exile. It was in exile that he met the scattered remnants of what had once been the great civilisation of apes. I'm sure you can imagine what happens next."

Jayce stared into the flickering green flame on the wick of the candle in front of him, his eyes glazed with thought. "He wanted revenge for his banishment, didn't he?"

Silverback nodded slowly, "And the apes were only too happy to assist him, for they too sought revenge against the beasts that had driven them into hiding a hundred years ago. So began the darkest war between dragons and apes that this realm has ever seen."

Jayce frowned, "But…you said this happened over a thousand years ago. Why are we still fighting, then? And what happened to this dragon?"

Silverback sighed. "This is where the legends become foggy, and where we apes have forgotten the true reason for why we fought in the first place. The dragon became known as the Dark Master, and he led the army of apes to battle against his own kind for many decades. But…all tyrants must fall eventually. Some believe the Dark Master fell at the claws of his own kind, but the truth may be far crueller. There is a legend that he was not killed, but rather imprisoned in a place not within this realm—a place not even considered a realm in its own right. This is the legend King Gaul believes, and it is his quest to free the legendary Dark Master so that the apes may have their final revenge against dragonkind."

"But how long ago was he imprisoned?" Jayce asked sceptically, raising an eyebrow. "I mean…dragons live for a long time, but if he lived a thousand years ago…"

"It has been many hundreds of years since his imprisonment, yes, but the power of the Dark Master is not to be underestimated. Some say…he is eternal."

"But what about the apes? What happened to _them_ after this Dark Master was imprisoned?"

Silverback waved a paw dismissively, as though it was little to be concerned about. "They fought for a time, but with their leader gone, they were at their enemies' mercy. The Dark Army, as they were known back then, scattered to all corners of the realms, but life remained dicey. Dragons and apes remained enemies, and small portions of the Dark Army reformed throughout the realms, staging attacks on defenceless dragon villages and unsuspecting travellers. It was not until Gaul rose to power that the Dark Army fully reformed, however—and that is now what you are part of, little soldier. That raid on the Dragon Temple was no ordinary attack. It was a declaration of war."

The emaciated ape leaned forward across the desk, the whites of his sunken eyes glinting in the firelight. "Make no mistake; _you_ are about to be witness to the beginning of the second Great War since the fall of the Dark Master."

Jayce gulped and nodded mutely, his head buzzing with new information, as though his brain was a light attracting all manner of curious bugs. On the other side of the desk, Silverback stood up abruptly.

"I believe that's enough information for you to digest for a night. Tomorrow you'll have to introduce Charla to her new littermates—you'll want to be alert for that."

Jayce shook himself from his reverie and nodded, standing up. He spotted Charla asleep under the desk and wondered how long she had been there. Gathering the hatchling into his arms, he nodded to Silverback and turned to leave. A sudden thought hit him and he turned back.

"Do _you_ believe the Dark Master was imprisoned like the legends say? And…do you think the King will succeed in freeing him?"

Silverback considered him for a moment. "To your first question; yes. Regardless of how, I am certain the Dark Master still lives. As for your second… Only time will tell."

Though far from satisfied, Jayce nodded and turned away again. He was just about to descend the steps out of Silverback's cavern, when the old ape's voice reached him from afar.

"But if the Dark Master _is_ released, I do not believe it will bode well for anyone—not even Gaul himself."

* * *

As it happened, Silverback turned out to be right—Charla's Death Hound suit worked like a charm. Though Jayce feared the pups would tear her apart the instant he placed her among them, they treated her no differently than they did each other. They were violently playful, but as it turned out, so was Charla. In fact, Jayce thought she even enjoyed wrestling the pups to the ground. He wondered if it was dragon nature to assert dominance, or if his hatchling was simply too feisty for her own good.

When feeding time came around—and it always did, no matter how some of the apes wished it didn't—Jayce stood on the usual ledge and threw chunks of bloody raw meat into the waiting litter of pups. He had a feeling they'd eat him too if he stepped off the ledge. They were like furry piranhas with legs, jaws snapping and reptilian tails lashing as they fought tooth and claw for the largest, juiciest piece of meat. Jayce almost felt sorry for whatever poor creature it was that had become their lunch.

Charla fought with the best of them, roughly nudging the other pups aside and snatching up the largest piece of meat for her own. One of the pups was daring enough to try to snatch it from her, and a vicious tug of war began that made Jayce cover his eyes. Though not as burly as the Death Hound pups, the dragon hatchling was doubly determined for whatever reason, and with a horrible tearing of flesh she danced away with the largest portion of meat dangling from her tiny jaws. Jayce sighed and leaned against the dungeon wall, rubbing his bloody hands on his tunic.

"You were made to be a Death Hound, Charla," he muttered under his breath, watching her tear into her meal with ravenous hunger.

Glancing across, he spotted Raden a few meters away, standing on his own ledge and watching the litter he was in charge of. He looked deathly bored as he watched two pups biting and scrambling over each other, a bloody chunk of meat forgotten beside them.

A sudden scream rent the damp air of the dungeons, and Jayce whipped his head around in alarm. One of the apes had carelessly stepped off the ledge, and had been rewarded with a pup's jaws fasted securely around his foot. The unfortunate soldier screamed and flailed, trying to throw the pup off, but it only clung tighter. The other apes only watched, unwilling to leave the safety of their own ledges to help.

Raden sighed and picked up a large rock beside his foot, hefting it in one paw before lobbing it as hard as he could towards the screaming ape. It struck the Death Hound pup in the flank, and it released the unfortunate ape's foot with a yelp, tumbling back into the furry throng of its littermates. Gasping for breath, the ape scrambled back onto the ledge and curled up against the wall, nursing the bloody remnants of his foot.

"Idiot," Raden muttered, leaning against the wall again and looking carelessly bored. "If you're stupid enough to step off the ledge you deserve to lose a foot."

Jayce cast the wounded ape a pitying glance, but chose not to say anything. Instead he went back to watching Charla and was glad dragons weren't nearly as vicious as Death Hounds. He would rather keep all of his limbs.

* * *

Charla was already asleep by the time Jayce took her to Silverback's cavern that evening. As he had done the previous evening, he stopped by the mess hall—with Charla safely hidden in his pocket—to scarf down a bowl of stew before meeting with the ancient ape. Silverback was sitting at his desk, flipping through a huge tome with thin, dusty pages when Jayce arrived.

"How is our little Death Hound?" Silverback asked, eyes twinkling as he looked up from his book. Jayce extracted the hatchling from his pocket as carefully as he could, but she still opened bleary eyes, awakened by the movement.

"It worked perfectly," Jayce said, placing Charla down when she wriggled for freedom. "I think she was meant to be a Death Hound."

Silverback chuckled. "You'd best hope she stays a dragon. I think you'll find Death Hounds are far less…appealing."

"Tell me about it." Jayce sank onto his usual stool with a groan, watching Charla patter around the cavern looking for bugs. "One of the apes almost lost a foot today, just because he got in the way of a pup during feeding time."

"So I've heard about Hound Duty. If you're not careful, you'll lose more than a foot. Nevertheless, here you are, limbs and all—let's continue, shall we?"

Learning to read turned out to be just as difficult as Silverback had said it would, and yet again Jayce was exhausted by the end of the night. Tired after a day of wrestling with pups, Charla had fallen asleep on the desk again, still dressed in her furry suit, which was now even more rancid than before. After Jayce yawned for the twelfth time, Silverback finally saw fit to let him stop.

"You are making good progress," the old ape praised, while Jayce rubbed his eyes tiredly. "There's a smart brain in that head, after all."

"Thanks," Jayce grunted, "I think. I'm gonna hit the sack."

"Before you leave," Silverback interrupted, "there's something we need to address. You keep Charla with you in your dormitory at night, don't you?"

Jayce blinked, "Well…yeah. Where else am I going to put her?"

The silvery ape's eyes darkened. "You do realise that is putting both you and her in danger? I would think your room mate would have already noticed, and if word gets out about her existence…"

"I know, I know," Jayce grumbled, "but you don't have to worry about my room mate. Trust me. Where else is she supposed to sleep?"

"You have two choices," said Silverback. "Either you let her sleep with the litter pups, or you bring her to me. She will be safe here, far more so than she will be in your dormitory."

Jayce opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. For a moment he played with the idea of leaving her with the Death Hound litter, but the mental image of coming back the next morning to find her torn to pieces was enough to banish that idea for good.

"Y…yeah, I guess I'll leave her with you." He looked worriedly at the hatchling still asleep on the desk and hoped leaving her here was the right thing to do. Silverback clapped him on the shoulder.

"She will be safe here, I assure you. Now then—" For a moment it looked like Silverback had something more to say, but a strange look passed over his face and he froze mid-sentence. Confused, Jayce eyed him warily, noticing the glazed, far-away look in his sunken eyes.

"Uh…Silverback?" he asked hesitantly. The old ape frowned and flared his nostrils, turning a wrinkled frown in Charla's direction. Jayce fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Charla's egg was the only one you found, correct?" Silverback asked suddenly. Jayce stared, thrown off by the odd question.

"Uh…_yeah_?"

The wizened ape frowned and grunted, his eyes glazed with thoughtful concern. Jayce was utterly at a loss.

"What's wrong?" he pressed, trying not to sound nervous and not entirely succeeding.

Silverback shook his head, "It is nothing you should be concerned about for now. Off you go, then. I will keep Charla safe with me."

"Right…" Jayce eyed him unsurely for a few more moments, then passed the sleeping hatchling one last glance and muttered, "I'll be back in the morning."

Silverback watched him go, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The scent he'd just caught on the air was one he could recognise anywhere, no matter how strange and unexpected it was. Ancient or not, there was no fooling his nose. He knew what he had smelled. Shuffling back across the room, he placed a withered paw on Charla's sleeping form and wondered what it would mean for her.

"You are not alone in this hell hole," Silverback whispered to the sleeping hatchling. A weird chill swept under his skin; a bad omen of things to come. "Though…perhaps, one day, you may wish you were."

There was no mistaking that scent. Another dragon had been hatched at the Well of Souls.

**A/N: I'm sure you can all guess who that other dragon is... Time-skip next chapter, me hearties! Thanks for reading, and do drop a review if you feel so inclined. Otherwise, see you next chapterrrr~ Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter, and sorry for the wait!**

**What will the next update be, I wonder... I don't know myself, but keep an eye out. :3 TTFN. **


	10. Eleven Years Later

**A/N: New chapterrr~ And a glimpse of our dear Terror of the Skies. ;] Oh, and forgive the random poem... I was in a poetry mood. There shouldn't be too many chapters left before we return to the present, but my writing does tend to run away with me, so we'll see... Anyway, enjoy the new chapter and thanks for reading. :] Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, as always. Your words are greatly appreciated~**

**Chapter 9**

**Eleven Years Later**

Green fire flickered as a shadowy figure slipped past, conjuring a short rush of wind that caused the candle-flames to dance on their wicks. On silent paws, the figure crept to the edge of its hideout and peered down into the cavern. The arching entrance to the cavern was just below, marked by flaming torches on either side that threw pools of green light across the stone. The figure tensed and waited.

The sound of soft footsteps on stone echoed through the caverns, and someone stepped into the firelight. The hidden figure pounced.

"Grah!" yelled Jayce as he was forced to the ground by a heavy weight suddenly dropping onto his shoulders. Scales brushed his fur as the weight rolled off him, giggling.

"Charla," the ape groaned, sitting up and rubbing his chin, "what have I told you about pouncing?"

"But it's so fun," the dragoness whined playfully, rolling onto her back and staring up at Jayce with wide green eyes. "It's not like I hurt you."

"Tell that to the bruise on my chin."

Shaking his head, Jayce looked around the cavern, searching for its usual resident, but found it otherwise uninhabited. The desk in the middle of the room was as strewn with unorganised pieces of parchment as it always was, and the dusty bookshelves loomed largely untouched around the walls. Eleven years had done little to change Silverback's cavern, despite its newest, scaly resident. A scattering of claw marks around the cavern floor was all the evidence of her existence left over the last eleven years.

"Where's Silverback today?"

Charla grimaced and rolled back to her feet, shaking out her maroon wings. The leathery appendages had been growing steadily over the last few years and already she could glide short distances. Silverback claimed she would be flying in a few months' time. But her wings weren't the only things that had changed over the years. She was already three times the size she had been when she'd first hatched, and still growing. Her horns had grown in, arching backwards gracefully before curving delicately forwards again. On the tip of her tail grew a wickedly sharp blade of ivory bone that curved into a smooth hook.

No longer able to hide as a Death Hound, Charla had spent the last few years living solely in Silverback's cavern, exploring the network of tunnels that traversed almost the entirety of the mountain. The old ape had warned her countless times to stay out of sight, so much so that the advice had been drilled into her head and she never forgot it. That didn't stop her from exploring, though. The endless hours stuck in Silverback's cavern were tiresome for a young dragoness.

"He went out earlier," Charla said with a shrug. "Something about the King wanting to see him."

Jayce's eyes widened and the firelight made him look slightly alarmed. "He's gone to see Gaul? What for?"

"Dunno. Didn't say." Charla scooted closer to the ape and reared onto her hind legs so that she could nuzzle his chest, hooking her claws into the fabric of his tunic. "You should come visit more often. It's boring in here."

Jayce sighed and rested a hand on her head, just to the side of the ivory horn that swept backwards between the other two. Her ruby scales were smooth and warm to the touch, like gems kept by the fire. She uttered a deep purring sound from the base of her throat at his touch.

"Sorry, Char, I've been busy." The name he'd given her when she'd first hatched had years ago become an affectionate nickname, one that Jayce used often. "You know I've been on patrol the last few days. We only just got back this morning. Just be glad I didn't get posted somewhere far away—like Munitions' Forge. I hear Raden's trying to get sent there… Greater chance of getting promoted or something."

"Yeah, well, good riddance if he does go," Charla grumbled, her voice muffled by Jayce's tunic. "As long as he doesn't drag you along too."

"I'm not going anywhere. Nowhere that far, anyway. Besides, no one else is as good at handling the Death Hounds as I am—they're not going to post me somewhere else, that's for sure."

Charla just grumbled something unintelligible and nuzzled his chest firmly before pushing away. Standing on all fours, she only reached up to Jayce's hips, though her horns gave her an extra few inches of height. She wasn't the only one who had grown. Jayce himself was almost twice as tall as he had been eleven years ago. His hair had grown longer and wilder, sticking out in all directions underneath his bandanna, and muscles could now be seen rippling under his short fur. He'd long ago discarded his old swords for larger ones that suited his height better.

But, despite his growth, his features were largely the same as they had been when he'd first hatched Charla. The only new addition was a large scar on his left upper-arm, where a Death Hound had bit him a few years previously. He'd been lucky to get away with the limb still attached. Though Jayce was proud of his new height, he couldn't deny that the growth spurt was reaching its end—it seemed he wouldn't be getting any taller than this. Raden, on the other hand, was almost half a head taller and still going strong. Jayce estimated that, if it kept up, Raden would challenge the height of even the largest commanders—and maybe even King Gaul himself.

"So what's my little dragoness been doing today?" Jayce asked, sitting down on the ground to wait for Silverback's return. Charla nudged his shoulder roughly and stuck out her tongue.

"I'm not little any more, Jayce. Silverback was teaching me about the elements before he had to go. He said I should be able to breathe fire soon! Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"Yeah, so awesome," Jayce mumbled half-heartedly, hooking an arm around Charla's shoulders and pulling her onto his lap. "Did I ever tell you the story of how you burned my favourite headband to ashes the day after you hatched?"

Charla giggled. "Yeah, five times. The bandanna looks better anyway."

Jayce raised a hand to his bandanna, which was a rusty red colour that complimented his rich brown fur. "Do I look like a pirate?"

"You've never even seen a pirate."

"Sure I have. Silverback has a whole book about them."

"Yeah, but none of them were apes. They were mostly canines."

"So what? I'd make a dashing pirate."

Charla laughed and planted her forepaws in the centre of his chest, pushing the ape onto his back. She grinned down at him, tail flicking mischievously. "You're so stupid."

Jayce gazed up at the chandelier hanging far above them, smirking. "Maybe."

A few moments of silence passed before Jayce sat up again, letting Charla slide back down to his lap. "Hey, why don't you show me what you've learned about the elements? Maybe you could try breathing fire."

"Oh yeah!" Eager, Charla scrambled off her ape friend and impatiently bounced on the balls of her feet while she waited for him to stand up. Then she trotted into the centre of the cavern and took up a stance, legs spread slightly and paws planted firmly against the stone. "Um…what did the book say…?"

Jayce folded his arms and watched from a safe distance, wary of being set on fire if she succeeded. He considered calling encouragement or advice, but realised he probably knew less than she did, and stayed quiet instead. Charla frowned into the middle distance.

"Focus…on your centre…" the dragoness mumbled. "Try to feel the energy pooling inside you. Tease it up and…let it out."

Charla took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and was still for a few moments. Then her eyes snapped open and she opened her jaws wide, lurching forwards slightly.

Nothing happened.

Charla staggered slightly, looking embarrassed. Her eyes flicked over to Jayce and she quickly exclaimed, "That was just a practice go!"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took her stance again, chanting under her breath. "Come on, come on…"

Her muscles clenching, Charla focused on the red hot sensation deep in her belly that was always there, but which she hardly ever noticed. She knew that was the pool of energy that the book had spoken of, but it almost felt like it was closed off to her—as though a thin film stretched over its surface, preventing the energy from breaking free. Scowling, she tried to force past it.

Once again her eyes opened and so did her jaws, and she braced herself. A small puff of smoke curled past her tongue, accompanied by a spray of tiny embers that faded in the open air almost before Charla saw them. She coughed and staggered, tasting smoke on her tongue.

"I think you almost got it," said Jayce, moving to her side. "I mean, there were definitely a few sparks."

"But it wasn't _fire_," Charla pouted.

The sound of footsteps approaching the cavern cut Jayce off before he could respond, and he quickly moved in front of Charla, gesturing for her to hide. Though hardly anyone other than they and Silverback ever visited this cavern, it never hurt to be cautious. The ruby dragoness scampered behind Silverback's massive desk just as a large figure stepped into the green firelight at the cavern's entrance.

"Oh, Silverback." Jayce relaxed when he recognised the old ape, and Charla crawled out from behind the desk again. "Welcome back. Did you get to see Gaul?"

"I did," Silverback grunted tiredly, clapping Jayce on the shoulder as he shuffled across the room towards his chair. The old ape hadn't changed much over the years, though he was a little more stooped than he had been before. Jayce almost reached his shoulders now, though Silverback was still fond of calling him 'little'.

"And?"

Silverback sank into his chair with a tired sigh, and Jayce couldn't help noticing that he looked troubled. The old ape shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. "He merely needed my advice on something."

"I guess you're not going to tell us what, are you?" Jayce asked. Silverback didn't reply, his sunken eyes fixed on his desk. Jayce sighed. "Alright, well…you wanted to see me about something?"

Silverback blinked as though coming out of a reverie and called, "Charla, I think your little fire mites would appreciate a meal. I would like a word with Jayce alone, just for a moment."

Charla looked like she wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it and turned away with a grumble. A few months ago she had discovered a nest of fire mite eggs, and had been caring for them like pets since they had hatched. They were easy enough to feed, feasting on the tiny, luminescent bugs that crawled in abundance throughout the tunnels and caverns of the Well of Souls. The nest was hidden away in one of the tunnels connected to Silverback's cavern, and it was there she went now, collecting bugs along the way.

When she was gone, Jayce turned expectantly to Silverback and waited for him to speak. The silvery-furred ape seemed distracted, and his eyes kept glazing over, as though there was something weighing on his mind.

"The war is reaching its peak." Silverback's voice, cracked with age, echoed in the cavern. Jayce gave him an odd look.

"How can you tell? I mean, it's hard to know what it's like when we're not out there on the front lines ourselves…"

"Be glad you are not," Silverback sighed. "Eleven years we've been fighting. I despair to think of how many innocent lives have been lost—on both sides. But dragonkind is beginning to pull through. They were stronger a thousand years ago, and they are stronger now. Nothing has changed."

"So we're going to lose, then?"

"Perhaps. But now is the time for Gaul to reveal his secret weapon. For years I have managed to hold him off—to convince him she was not ready—but no longer. He knows it is time."

Jayce frowned, "What do you mean? What secret weapon? Who is 'she'?"

Silverback glanced up from his desk, his sunken eyes meeting Jayce's at last. "If tonight goes as Gaul has planned, you will find out soon enough."

The emaciated ape closed his eyes, and Jayce thought he saw a deep sadness etched into his withered face. A feeling of unease stirred inside the younger ape. Silverback opened his eyes again suddenly, and this time there was a strange fire in their depths that spoke of harsh determination.

"I called you here because I knew it was only a matter of time before this occurred. I did not realise it would be so soon, but that is all the more reason for you to hear this. Jayce…"

Jayce straightened, surprised to hear his own name spoken so seriously by his withered friend and mentor. Silverback's eyes burned into his like twin flames.

"You must take Charla and leave the Well of Souls."

For a moment Jayce was too stunned for words. He gaped at the old ape, frozen briefly in time. Then a single word slipped past his lips. "Wh-what?"

"You must travel far from here, where Gaul and the Dark Army cannot follow. Do not try to return. You may find sanctuary with the dragons, but it is unlikely. Follow your own path and seek a life away from this war where you and Charla can grow and live in harmony. You may be the only shred of unity between two warring species, and that must not be lost."

"Already we have kept Charla here too long. She does not belong here in these dreary caverns, where there is no room to spread her wings. She is a creature of the wild skies—a dragon—not a beast to be shackled to the dark stronghold of the darkest army. I knew this would be the outcome the moment I saw you with her; and now it is time for you to leave—leave while you still can."

"But…but… This is my home!" Jayce exclaimed, looking dazed and frightened. "Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? The world is dangerous! At least here we are safe!"

"For how long, Jayce?" Silverback asked tiredly. "How long can you hide her from the eye of King Gaul? He will find her, and when he does, he will kill her—or worse. And you will die with her. You know this."

Jayce's shoulders drooped and he sat down on a stool with a sigh, covering his face with a hand. Silverback considered him sadly from the other side of the desk.

"It won't be easy—and, yes, it will be dangerous—but you have a better chance out there. Trust me. Have I ever given you reason not to?"

Jayce smirked wryly and looked up, "Guess not. You're the only reason we've managed to stay hidden this long, anyway. It's just…it's scary. You know? I've lived here all my life…"

Silverback smiled almost fondly. "I know, little soldier. But it is what is best—for both of you. I suggest a day to prepare, but no more. Things may change after tonight…and not for the better."

Those ominous words sent shivers down Jayce's spine, and he wondered if he really wanted to know what Silverback knew.

"So…should I speak to Charla, or do you…?"

"I can break the news to her, if you would prefer," Silverback replied. "For now you should get back to your dormitory. If things go as planned, there won't be patrol tomorrow, but you should be ready to leave tomorrow morning nevertheless."

"Right…" Jayce swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and stood up. "Tell Charla I said goodnight. And…see you tomorrow, I guess?"

Silverback nodded, "Come to me as soon as you are able, but not if it will attract attention. At worst, I can send Charla to you. She knows her way around the tunnels almost too well."

The old ape paused a moment, then lowered a paw and opened a small drawer on his side of the desk. Jayce couldn't see the contents inside the dusty drawer, but he had a feeling it hadn't been opened for some time. Silverback's fingers closed around a small object, and he held his clenched fist out to Jayce. Hesitantly, Jayce reached out his paws. A small green crystal dropped into his palm.

"This is…?"

"Do you remember?" Silverback asked. "That gem is imbued with Charla's hatchling fire. I want you to keep it."

"But why?" Jayce asked, raising the gem to eye level. He could still see the flickering red flame imprisoned in its centre as it had been eleven years ago.

"It is a strange phenomenon I have never been able to truly understand, but that gem will forever be linked to our young dragoness. Should you ever be separated, you may find that it can lead you back to her. Take it; keep it safe; pray you never need use it—you must stick together in this damaged realm."

"I will," Jayce promised solemnly, slipping the gem into his pocket, and turned to leave. A second later, he turned back with a new thought glimmering in his eyes. "Will you come with us?"

Silverback smiled wryly, "It is not an old ape's place to hinder you. I've done enough. Now it's time to set you free."

"But…what if they discover how you helped us? Aren't you in as much danger as we are?"

"Perhaps. But even if my life were to come to an end over this… Well, I have lived long enough. It would be a fitting end for an old dragon-lover, don't you think?" Silverback chuckled and held out a withered hand. "It has been an honour knowing you, Jayce. You are a credit to a race otherwise stooped in darkness. Be proud of who you are."

"H-hey," Jayce hesitantly grasped Silverback's hand in his own, grinning nervously, "you're speaking like this is going to be the last time we meet. I'll see you tomorrow at least, right?"

"Perhaps," Silverback's eyes twinkled sadly, "but it never hurts to say goodbyes early—just in case."

"I guess… In that case, thanks for everything, Silverback. I don't think I can ever repay you for what you've done for me—for us."

"Just your existence—and Charla's—is enough repayment for this old ape. Off you go then, and…may the Ancestors look after you."

Jayce grinned slightly, "Yeah…you too."

* * *

Something startled Charla awake not long before midnight. She lay quiet in the stillness of the dark cavern, trying to gather her bearings, unsure what had interrupted her dreams. She was not in the tiny, moss-lined cavern she usually slept in, but in a much larger cave that she didn't recognise in the dark. Straw was scratchy under her belly scales, and something large and furry lay nearby, breathing calmly through the quiet. Charla let out a soft breath of relief when she realised it was Silverback.

The old ape had requested she spend the night in his cavern, something she had not done since she was a very small hatchling. He had claimed that this night was not one to spend alone, but had not elaborated on why. Charla had been too busy pouting to question Silverback, irritated that Jayce had not waited to say goodbye to her before he left earlier that evening.

An eerie sound penetrated the silence and Charla sat bolt upright, the scales on the back of her neck prickling. It sounded like the shriek of a creature in pain. Beside her, Silverback shifted slightly and Charla realised he was not asleep. The old ape pulled her against his chest, just as another screaming howl reached them from afar. Charla shivered and sank into his fur, the distant shriek filling her with fear that she could not explain.

It was no ordinary shriek of pain. She had heard apes in pain before—listened to their shrill yells when things, especially regarding Death Hounds, did not go quite according to plan. This was different. It was a voice filled with agony so terrible that it burned through the stillness of night like blazing wildfire. It was not the cry of an ape.

"What's happening?" Charla whispered into Silverback's matted fur. A withered paw stroked her scales reassuringly.

"Dark things," was all he said. His voice was low and sad.

The scream ripped through the silence again, carrying through the caverns and echoing in Charla's ears. She shuddered and closed her eyes against the sudden prickling of tears. "I don't like it…"

Silverback's paw rested protectively on her back, and even his bony fingers granted her some reassuring warmth. "You are safe."

Charla trembled as the howls continued. They sounded hauntingly close now, or perhaps they were just growing louder. Whoever was screaming was being consumed by this agony. Charla couldn't bear it.

"Make it stop…" she begged, voice trembling.

Silverback shifted in the dark, and he pulled her closer until she was almost enveloped by his arms. For a time he did not respond, but then his deep voice reached through the silence.

_Darkness gathers  
__in the night._

_Light spirals  
__out of sight._

_Fear summons  
__endless pain._

_Hopes drown  
__in the rain._

_Ancestors watching  
__from afar,_

_Carry us  
__among the stars._

_We breathe._

_They see._

_Our hearts  
__are free._

_Hope shines  
__through the pain._

_Our memories  
__still remain._

"Did you make that up?" Charla whispered into Silverback's fur.

"It is an old song, from many centuries ago," murmured the ancient ape, "from a time before dragons and apes were enemies. It was sang in times of doubt, times of hardship, times when hope seemed far out of reach. The dragons believed the great Ancestors would guide them through those times. A long time ago, the apes believed in them too."

"But…" Charla wiped a paw across her eyes, shivering when another howl echoed through the caverns, "aren't the Ancestors dragons? Why would apes believe in them?"

"The Ancestors are whoever you believe them to be. You would do well to remember that. We apes forgot that long ago. Perhaps one day we will remember."

Silence fell after that, broken only by the haunting shrieks that continued well into the night. It was a long time before Charla found sleep again, and when she did her dreams were haunted by faceless creatures that screamed in agony and begged the darkness for mercy.

* * *

"And go where?" Charla asked for the tenth time, glaring at Silverback as he tidied several years' worth of loose parchment on his desk.

"Far away," he replied shortly, as he had done every other time she had asked. That question had been the only one on her tongue since Silverback had told her that morning that she and Jayce would soon be leaving the Well of Souls.

"But why?" Charla whined, clambering up onto the rickety stool beside the desk. It wobbled dangerously, and she dug her claws into the wooden seat to keep it steady. "And why do we have to leave you behind?"

"Because," Silverback paused over a stack of parchment and met her eyes, "I am an old ape you do not need slowing you down."

"So what if you're old? You didn't answer my first question."

"Because you do not belong here!" Silverback's voice was sharper than usual, and Charla shrank away at the unexpected harshness. She looked almost hurt, but Silverback willed himself not to look into her eyes.

"That isn't fair," she mumbled. "Why would you say that? I belong with you and Jayce. I always will."

"Life isn't fair," Silverback murmured, more to himself than to Charla. His shoulders drooped and he looked up to meet her emerald eyes. They shimmered with hurt and uncertainty. Silverback sighed. "Charla…"

The sound of footsteps approaching the mouth of his cavern cut Silverback off before he had a chance to continue. His ears twitched and his shoulders stiffened before he gestured for Charla to hide. The dragoness leapt off the stool with only a slight clamour and scampered across the cavern into one of the small tunnels in the wall. It was not a moment too soon. A large ape of typical commander-size strode into the pool of green firelight at the mouth of the cavern and set his eyes on Silverback.

"You, Old One," he barked and Silverback straightened slightly, looking mildly interested. "King Gaul demands all apes be present at the Master Cavern immediately for a special announcement."

A sneer crossed the commander's face as his eyes roved over Silverback's withered frame, "You're expected there too. In fact, the King asked for you to be present specifically. I can't imagine what he'd want with a withered old relic, but the King's business is his own."

Silverback considered the commander ape for a moment, his face impassive. Then he granted him a slow, single nod by way of response. The commander snorted and turned away, throwing the words 'don't be late' over his shoulder as he left. The echo of his footsteps faded in moments.

"You can come out now," Silverback called with a sigh, and Charla all but exploded out of her hiding place.

"What was that about?" she asked eagerly, dancing on the pads of her paws around the old ape.

"Exactly what I feared," Silverback replied grimly, and elaborated no further. Charla opened her mouth to ask a thousand questions, but was cut off before she could even ask one.

"I want you to stay here and stay hidden until I return," Silverback said. "I should return in an hour at most, and until then you must stay here."

"But…"

"No buts! Keep your fire mites company if you have nothing to do. If you hear someone in the cavern, do not come out unless you hear me call. Is that clear?"

"But…"

"Charla!"

She sighed. "Okay…I get it. I'll stay here. But you have to tell me what's going on when you get back! I hate it when you keep stuff from me…"

"We'll see," Silverback replied, leaning down to rest a hand on her horns. "Off you go now, I'll be back soon."

Charla just hummed in response. Flicking her tail, she turned around and sought out a particular tunnel that would lead her to the fire mite nest. Silverback waited until she was concealed before he left the cavern, footsteps fading as he disappeared down the corridor. When she could no longer hear him, Charla waited another few moments and then crept back out of the tunnel. Smirking, she scampered across the cavern and clambered into a different tunnel in the opposite wall.

'The Master Cavern, was it?'

* * *

As Silverback had said, Charla knew her way around the countless hidden tunnels in the Well of Souls almost too well. Several years of exploring had granted her that, and with the lessons learnt from too many close calls, she was able to traverse almost the entire mountain without any of its inhabitants knowing she was there. She knew just which tunnels to follow and which turns to take to reach the Master Cavern, and was there almost before Silverback—undetected, as usual. Crawling to a tiny opening at the end of the tunnel, Charla peered down at the expansive cavern from her vantage point.

She was high up towards the roof of the cavern, hidden behind a thin crack that she might have been able to squeeze through—with several minutes worth of wriggling and cursing. She had never set foot in the cavern itself—it was always occupied by one ape or another, often by a whole squadron there for a briefing from their commander. But never had she seen it as packed full of apes as it was now.

The entire cavern floor was covered in them—a seething mass of rancid fur, shuffling to and fro as apes jostled for a comfortable position. Their voices filled the cavern in a cacophony of unintelligible noise—at least, to Charla's ears—but she assumed they were all wondering aloud why they had been called here on such short notice. Gazing intently, her eyes swept over the noisy sea of fur, but spotting Jayce amongst hundreds or thousands of similar-looking apes was nigh impossible. Expelling a silent sigh, she let her eyes wander towards the far side of the cavern.

Silverback was standing there, apart from the rest of the apes, paws folded behind his back and waiting with stiff attention. Charla watched him for some time, noting the way the apes closest to him kept shooting him nervous, suspicious glances. She supposed the old ape wasn't usually seen by the public eye.

Minutes later, a pair of burly commander-sized apes emerged from the shadows of the corridor across the far side of the cavern near where Silverback stood. They slammed the butts of their staves into the stone floor, sending a hollow, ringing echo bouncing around the cavern. Most of the chatter died away, and one of the apes barked loudly, "At attention for our revered leader, King Gaul!"

A ripple passed through the ranks of apes as they all sprang to attention, turning rigid like stone. Charla watched with interest, until a hulking figure stepped out of the shadows of the far corridor and revealed himself in the light of the cavern. The dragoness sank to her belly.

She had never seen Gaul so close. He towered above the other apes by at least two heads—even the tallest commanders only reached just below his shoulders. His width was no laughing matter, either, and Charla estimated he had to be at least twice as wide as Jayce. The dark bluish robes that adorned his massive body were of the finest quality, and the deep purple armour on his shoulders and chest shimmered in the firelight of countless torches around the cavern. A massive helm, complete with arching metal horns, rested upon his head, perched proudly above a shock of dark grey hair that hung down limply around his thin face.

But it was the eye that drew her attention. One was a dark greyish-blue, like a storm at sea, but the other was gone. Replacing it was a brilliant emerald about the size of Charla's paw, so vivid it looked poisonous. It spread sickly green light across the scars adorning his less-than-handsome face. Charla held her breath.

"Silence!" Gaul roared, silencing the last straggling threads of conversation amongst the ranks of apes. His voice was rough like sandpaper, and it set Charla's teeth on edge.

Glowering, the great ape began to pace before the sea of his soldiers. "No doubt you are all wondering why I have summoned you here. This is a critical time in our history. The war has taken a turn not in our favour, and already we are being pushed back…"

Noise filled the cavern as apes argued and yelled their disapproval. Frowning, Charla crept closer to the crack. Gaul raised his voice further, emerald eye glinting in the firelight.

"Already the dragons believe they have won!" The cacophony of shrieking apes grew louder, but still Gaul's booming voice could not be drowned out. "I say they are fools!"

Shrieks of anger morphed into shouts of approval, and once again Gaul demanded silence. An eerie stillness fell over the cavern, and apes shifted nervously in their spots. Gaul paced slowly, both eyes—real and fake—staring intensely at the front lines of soldiers.

"I have called you here today to witness the seed of our salvation—so that you may see for yourselves the secret weapon we have kept from the dragons for so long! At long last, it is time to reveal to them that their doom was sealed eleven years ago, on the night we raided their precious temple and shattered their precious eggs! Because…"

Gaul's voice rose with triumph, "…there was one egg that was not smashed. Behold—our salvation, and the final key towards our victory!"

Whispers rippled through the ranks of apes, but Charla's attention was solely on the corridor behind Gaul, in which she could see a tall, dark shape beginning to move. Slowly, a towering, lithe figure stepped out into the light. First, a dark paw came into view, bejewelled with glistening black scales, then an elegant chest adorned with scales as red as freshly spilt blood, and finally an elegant, black-scaled head, angular but beautiful upon a curving, swan-like neck. The shadows slipped away and she stood tall beside Gaul, blood-red wings furled against her elegantly elongated body.

A dragon.

Charla bit her lip to keep from gasping, but the apes below did not show such restraint. Shouts of anger, surprise and even alarm filled the cavern, and they were silenced only by Gaul's booming voice.

The giant ape was speaking again, but Charla wasn't listening. Her entire attention was focused on this new dragon—no, dragoness. Her scales were like chips of obsidian, clashing magnificently with the blood red of her underbelly and wings. Three pairs of brilliant silver-white horns arched from the back of her head, above a curious bluish marking etched upon her forehead. Below that, a pair of sickly yellow eyes was set above a tapered, slim muzzle. On the end of her long, whip-like tail was a metal blade like a scythe that didn't look natural.

Charla held her breath. She had never seen another dragon before, let alone one so brimming with cold, intelligent malice. Her scales prickled uncomfortably and she found herself wanting to look away, but she couldn't. It was all she could do to stare at the towering black dragoness, her thoughts a roiling storm ready to break.

Who was she?

Where had she come from?

Why was she here?

Why had Silverback never told her there was another dragon at the Well of Souls?

"My dear little soldiers," said the dragoness suddenly, and Charla was snapped out of her reverie by the eerie yet elegantly feminine voice. "You will be led to victory, and you will prevail. My Master wishes it to be so, and I shall do all in my power to grant him that wish."

"I may be a dragon," she continued, her voice dripping from her tongue like silky acid, "but I shall not serve a race so foolish and blind as they. It was Gaul who saved me, and my dear Master who liberated me from the limitations and weaknesses of my former, useless form. In the name of the Dark Master, you shall be led to victory. And I shall lead you there."

Her eyes glinted yellow, "All I ask is that you serve me unconditionally. I will be your queen, and with my help, you shall fill the skies above your enemies with terror. This I promise you."

A terrified—or was it awed?—silence fell upon the apes following this speech. Charla felt her scales prickling with tension and fear. Her eyes slipped over to Silverback almost of their own accord, and she frowned. He was staring at the dark dragoness not with awe or fear, but with pity—sadness. Charla could not understand why.

"Kneel," Gaul demanded suddenly, voice cutting through the silence like a rusted blade. "Show respect to your newest commander—Mistress Cynder."

The apes didn't move.

"Kneel!" Gaul roared, so loudly that Charla thought she felt the cavern shake. Apes scrambled to kneel, terrified of their King's wrath.

Mistress Cynder herself gazed upon them with cruel satisfaction, a lone dragon at the head of countless apes. Soon, more than half of them would be under her command, and the skies would be filled with terror just as she had promised. Then her nostrils flared and her elegant head shot up, casting a suspicious gaze around the cavern. Those piercing, yellow eyes slid upwards before Charla even had a chance to think.

Yellow eyes met green, and Charla froze. For a whole second that seemed to last an eternity, she was held by the gaze of the black dragoness, trapped like a bird in a cage. Then, with a silent gasp, she wrenched away and fled back down the tunnel as quickly and quietly as she could.

She didn't look back, but the memory of Cynder's yellow-eyed gaze, so full of malice, remained burned in her mind like a permanent scar.


	11. First Flight to Freedom

**A/N: Eeee...it's been over 2 months. Whoops. I really _like_ this chapter. Not entirely sure why, but yeah... Thanks for the reviews last chapter everyone. It's really, really appreciated. :D Let's keep going...**

**For those of you wondering, I'm estimating about 3 more chapters before we return to the present with Charla and Lance. This past stuff is just waaaay too fun to write, though. xD Am I the only one who finds Gaul and the apes really interesting?**

**Chapter 10**

**First Flight to Freedom**

In a blind state of fear and confusion, Charla fled through the winding passageways back to Silverback's cavern. Had she not known these tunnels by heart, and had her paws not been able to lead her through muscle-memory alone, she could have easily found herself lost. Instead, she stumbled through the end of the tunnel minutes later and landed sprawled on the floor of Silverback's cavern. A gasping whimper left her mouth and she curled into a ball.

Minutes dragged by around the listless red dragoness, her eyes shut tight and her head tucked under her paws. Her mind writhed with chaotic thoughts and images, of cold dark dragons with cruel yellow eyes, and rendered her momentarily helpless. Eventually, she found the strength to drag herself over to Silverback's desk, and slumped beneath it to stare hollowly at the green fire illuminating the entranceway.

She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, her thoughts a tangled web of confusion, but eventually the sound of footsteps approached the cavern. Charla sank into the shadows under the desk, but it was Silverback who stepped into the firelight. She slunk out of the shadows and sat up in front of the desk.

The old ape noticed her immediately and a deep frown creased his wizened face.

"I told you not to come out until I called." He seemed like he was about to say more, but Charla didn't want to hear any of it. There was only one thing she wanted to know.

"Why didn't you ever tell me there was another dragon here?"

Brief surprise flickered across Silverback's face, but it lasted a mere second before it was replaced by resigned acceptance. "You spied on the meeting."

It wasn't a question, and something about his voice made Charla wonder if he had expected it. She shifted with guilt.

"I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to know what was happening. I hate secrets." The tiniest of pouts puckered her face. "How many secrets are you keeping from me? That dragon?"

"It was better Cynder did not know of your existence and you did not know of hers," Silverback said, lumbering over to sit down on his throne-like chair. Charla turned to keep him in her sights.

"Why? How long has she been here?"

Silverback considered her grimly. "Her egg hatched two days after yours. Gaul has been raising her himself—though I have been his consultant ever since her hatching. And why, you ask? Why should you never cross paths with this dragon?"

He leaned across the desk, his withered fingers digging into the wood. His sunken eyes glimmered alarmingly. "Because she is a servant of darkness and evil, tainted by twisted, forbidden magic; a puppet to a cold, dark master. You, a child of innocent light and full of the fire of life, should never have to cross destinies with her. It was to protect you."

"But…why is she like that? What happened to her?"

Silverback sighed and sat back again. "Pray you never find out. And pray she never finds you."

Charla bit her lip. "What…what would you say if I said she saw me?"

There wasn't much colour in Silverback's greying face to begin with, but at Charla's words, the very last shred of pigment drained away and left him as ashen-faced as a corpse. His fingers gripped the wood of his desk once more. "She saw you?"

"I…I think so." Charla shrank back slightly, eying Silverback's expression with something close to fear. "I mean, it was just a glance. We sort of…locked eyes for a second. And I ran away."

"You must go." Silverback stood up abruptly and Charla shrank back further. He raised his hand and pointed towards the tunnels in the walls. "You must leave immediately!"

"But…but I…"

"Go, Charla! Get out of here!"

"Wh… No! No, I don't want to!" she exclaimed, backing up with a defiant look on her face. "Why? Why should I go?"

"Because if you do not, Cynder will find you! If she knows of your presence, Gaul must also know! We may have only seconds before they come here seeking answers! Find Jayce and get out of this forsaken mountain!"

"I won't go!" Charla shrieked, flaring her wings automatically. "I won't go unless you go with me!"

Her voice caught and she sat down with a bump, a scared and frightened hatchling surrounded by stone. Silverback moved around the desk and knelt in front of her, his old bones creaking with effort. She refused to meet his eyes.

"Charla, listen to me. Your life is not the only one that is in danger today. Gaul has always been thorough. If he finds you, he will seek out all those who knew of you—and destroy them too. Jayce cannot hide. One way or another, he will be found out. He will be executed for these crimes."

Charla shook her head, her jaws clamped shut as tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Silverback placed his hand on her shoulder. "But if you leave now, both of you, there is a chance you can survive out there. Please, Charla. There isn't much time left. Find him and leave, while you still have the chance."

"And…and you?" the words caught in Charla's throat, but she forced them out anyway. Silverback smiled sadly.

"My presence would only condemn you both. You and Jayce are young and fit. You have a chance out there. I have already done all I can for you. Please…"

He would have continued; Charla sensed there were many more heartfelt things he wished to say before he sent her away for good. He wasn't given that chance. The sound of two sets of footsteps—one heavy and lumbering, the other light and graceful—approached the entrance to his cavern. Silverback's nostrils flared and he lurched to his feet as fast as his old body would allow.

"Go, go," he hissed to Charla. "We are out of time."

Charla hesitated, glancing back at the entranceway. A huge, lithe, dragon-shaped shadow loomed from around the corner and, with a strangled gasp, Charla ran. She bolted past Silverback, skidded to a halt and spun on her heel. Throwing herself at the old ape, she hugged his leg for all she was worth.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then her claws slipped from his matted fur and she fled into the nearest tunnel.

Charla paused when she was about three tail-lengths inside the tunnel, and listened intently for what was happening back in the cavern. She only stayed long enough to hear the first disconcerting threads of conversation.

"King Gaul, Mistress Cynder, may I help you?"

"I will not beat around the bush, Silverback. There is another dragon in our midst. I'm sure you of all apes will know of what I speak…"

"Tell us," came Cynder's silky-smooth voice, "where do we find this little whelp?"

* * *

Jayce cursed his luck for the fifth time as he stumbled along with the crowd. Gaul had dismissed them all rather suddenly at the end of the meeting, demanding they all return to their regular duties. As the head of the Death Hound division, Jayce had no choice but to lead the rest of the apes on hound duty down to the dungeons. He saw no opportunities to slip away to Silverback's cavern, pressed in as he was with the throng of apes packing the corridors. It was all he could do to grit his teeth and wait.

It was already feeding time when they made it to the dungeons, and the Death Hounds were howling in their pens, hungry for the taste of uncooked flesh. As the apes moved off to do their duties, Jayce considered making a break for it. He'd hardly made a move before another ape struck up conversation with him.

"So whatcha think of it all?" the ape said, raising his voice over the cacophony of ape voices and howling hounds. "A dragon as a commander? Seems like a crazy scheme t' me. Is we really that desperate that we need t' be recruitin' the enemy?"

"It's Gaul's choice, ultimately," Jayce replied, resisting the urge to correct the ape's grammar. "If he thinks it's what we need to win this war, we'll just have to go along with it."

"Tha's just what a commander would say," said the other ape, elbowing Jayce in the ribs companionably. Raden used to do that, Jayce reflected. His old friend had moved on from hound duty years ago.

"Master Bladelizard!" someone called and Jayce turned to find a smaller ape standing nearby, facing him with a salute. He suppressed a sigh.

"What is it?"

"There's a situation in pen twelve, Master Bladelizard," the ape barked. "Two hounds are trying to tear each other apart. They told me to find you."

"Bloody ancestors," Jayce muttered under his breath, pushing past the saluting ape. He'd be lucky if he got to Silverback's cavern by sunset at this rate.

Once at the pen in question, it was a simple matter of disrupting the fighting Death Hounds with two well-placed blows. Jayce had discovered years ago that the weak point on a Death Hound was right between its shoulder blades, just at the base of its short, stocky neck. They whimpered and dropped to the ground almost instantly, which gave Jayce a chance to assess the situation.

"Two full-grown males," he grumbled, more to himself than the ape in charge of watching pen twelve. "Should have known. One of these hounds needs to be relocated. Lowstar, find me a pen without an adult male!"

The ape in question raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the throng of apes. He reappeared minutes later. "Half of pen twenty-six was sent out to the front lines only the other day! There's only a few females in there now."

"Brilliant. Relocate this brute," Jayce gestured to the smaller of the male Death Hounds, "to pen twenty-six. If we're lucky, we might get some pups out of them."

Relocating Death Hounds was a regular matter in the dungeons. Giant metal collars were kept for this very reason, hung on the walls by rusted old hooks. Jayce sent the ape in charge of pen twelve to fetch one, and he returned with his knees shaking.

"C-can you do it, Master Bladelizard?" he stammered, holding the iron collar out to his superior. Jayce suppressed a sigh.

"You're lucky I'm not as strict as the commanders," he grumbled as he took the collar and the hefty chain leash attached to it. Leaping the shallow yet sturdy wall of the pen, he nudged the larger Death Hound out of the way, slapping its muzzle sharply when it tried to bite, and snapped the iron collar around the thick neck of the other. It snarled and tried to pull away, but Jayce dragged it back towards him.

"Go on then, let me out," Jayce snapped to the watching ape.

Wringing his hands, the nervous ape went to fetch another, and together they pushed aside the heavy stone that barred the entrance to the pen. Jayce dragged the collared Death Hound out, ignoring its struggles to escape, and the apes quickly slid the stone back into place before the other hounds could get out. The apes kept a wide berth as Jayce pulled the Death Hound through the dungeons, ignoring the way it kept digging its heels into the ground and snapping its jaws.

He was just coaxing it into pen twenty six, watched by five wary female hounds, when a loud voice boomed over the dungeons.

"Attention!" yelled the strangely familiar voice. "Stand at attention for our revered leader Gaul!"

Jayce unclipped the collar and jumped out of the pen before the Death Hound could give him a farewell bite. Clambering onto the platform usually used during feeding time, he craned his head over the other apes to find the speaker. Standing in the entrance to the dungeons was a tall burly ape he knew too well.

"Commander Raden," he muttered under his breath. "We meet again."

The rest of the apes had fallen silent, and for good reason, too. Jayce clamped his mouth shut and stood at attention as the hulking figure of Gaul appeared behind Raden. The commander quickly stepped out of his way, and Jayce's eyes fixed on the massive ape. Gaul never made visits to the dungeons. An icy feeling of worry wormed its way into his chest.

"Loyal soldiers," Gaul began, "there has been an incident."

Jayce held his breath. So did everyone else in the room.

"At this time, I ask your utmost honesty and cooperation to deal with this matter." Gaul paused. "There is a rebel dragon in our midst."

Whispers rippled through the dungeon and Jayce felt his blood turn to ice. Gaul wasn't finished.

"Our newest general, Cynder, discovered this spy herself. Currently she is interrogating our resident dragon expert, but should he fail to deliver the information we need, I have come to you. I will search this entire mountain if I must to find this dragon. All I ask is for anyone…anyone…who has seen something suspicious to come forward. You will not be harmed."

Silence. Gaul gazed around the eerily still dungeon, gazing at the sea of faces staring back at him. His artificial emerald eye gleamed eerily in the low light and even the Death Hounds had gone quiet.

"No one?" he asked. His voice was like a rusty knife in the silence. "There is a dragon loose in our stronghold. Someone must have noticed something. No mysterious noises? No unexplainable shadows? No food going missing?"

He lumbered towards the nearest pen and stretched out a hand to a large, brutish Death Hound. It whimpered slightly, lowering its head as Gaul stroked it almost lovingly.

"After all, the dungeons seem an obvious place for a dragon to hide…"

Jayce didn't realise he was biting his lip until he tasted blood. Fighting to keep his expression impassive, he didn't notice Raden's eyes flicker towards him. But Gaul, who was watching every ape around him like a hawk, saw it. Without a word, he pushed his way through the throng of apes, who hurried to get out of his path as quickly as possible. Jayce clenched his paw in his pocket to keep it from trembling.

"Bladelizard," Gaul said, stopping in front of him. "Head of the Death Hound division, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, my lord," Jayce answered automatically, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"These dungeons are your domain. Surely you of all apes would have noticed something amiss."

"No, my lord."

Gaul leaned closer, until Jayce could almost see himself reflected in that emerald eye. Even standing on the platform, he was still less than half as tall as the great ape. He swallowed nervously.

"You have seen nothing of this renegade dragon?"

"Nothing."

Gaul considered him and for a moment Jayce thought he would believe him. Then he straightened up and said in a clear voice that rang throughout the dungeons, "Let me tell you a secret, Bladelizard."

"I lost my eye on the night we raided the Dragon Temple to a dragon guarding the eggs. He was a large brute—red scales, searing flames. A single swipe from his claws saw an end to my eye. But I could almost call it a blessing." He gestured to the acid-green gem imbedded in the empty socket. "This gem is no mere trinket. Dragons are not the only ones who can harness the innate power of gems; not as long as you know how. And I know how. Ever since…"

Gaul reached over his shoulder and, ever-so-slowly, drew one of his massive dual swords from its sheath. Jayce wanted to step back, but his feet were rooted to the spot by fear. Gaul stared down at him, eyes both real and fake fixed on his trembling form.

"Ever since, I've never been fooled by a lie."

For a moment it looked as though he was about to strike Jayce down then and there—perhaps he had been intending to—but then a strange look passed over his face and he whirled around. The hand that was not holding a sword lashed out and caught a blow to a small, bright red creature that had apparently launched itself out of the nearby wall with the intent of tackling the much larger ape. A startled cry was the only sound it made as it crashed to the ground. Apes scattered to avoid it.

"Charla!" Jayce yelled. Countless apes stared at him in bewilderment. The red creature, now obviously visible as a small dragon, struggled to its feet.

"Leave him alone!" she demanded, glowering at Gaul with all the ferocity she could muster. The great ape stared at her, and then a deep chuckle resonated from his throat.

"And the rat in the walls shows itself," he said darkly, drawing his other sword. "Who would have guessed there was a dragon under my nose this whole time?"

Charla bit her lip and backed away slightly, only to stop when she realised she was surrounded by apes. "I'm…I'm not afraid of you…"

Her words were not convincing by any means. Gaul smiled cruelly. His next words were addressed to the apes.

"And what should I do with this brave little dragon?"

For a moment, no one seemed willing to talk. Then someone hissed something in the middle of the crowd, and the entire dungeon exploded with two words. "Kill it!"

Jayce moved faster than he could ever remember moving before. He didn't even think of the consequences as he ripped his broadswords from his sheathes, lurched forward and lashed them both across Gaul's ribs. The blades ripped through matted fur and skin with ease, tearing a path in the gap between plates of armour. Gaul's bellow of pain filled the dungeons like thunder as Jayce rolled and landed next to Charla, his sword blades now streaked with blood.

"Run!" he yelled and made a break for the dungeon exit. Charla sprinted after him, casting a fearful glance back at Gaul, who had fallen to one knee as blood streamed down his side.

Apes leapt out of the way to avoid Jayce's blades as he powered through the throng, Charla hard on his tail. No one even tried to stop them, and they reached the exit in seconds. Jayce's eyes locked with Raden's and for a moment time stood still. Then Jayce and Charla disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, unimpeded.

"Stop them!" Gaul roared. "I want their heads!"

* * *

Neither Jayce nor Charla bothered turning around to check if they were being followed. The cacophony of noise chasing them from the dungeon was enough proof of that. Jayce was already panting by the time they ascended the first flight of stairs to the lowest level above the dungeons. He glanced to and fro, realising with a jolt that he had no idea which way to go.

"S…Silverback sent me to you," Charla exclaimed breathlessly, skidding to a halt beside him. "He told us to go!"

"I know, I know!" Jayce's hands trembled on the hilts of his swords. "But I wasn't expecting this! What's the quickest way outside?"

"This way!" Charla yelled, bolting down the left passage. Jayce skidded after her, well aware of the howling throng of apes following close behind.

The red dragoness slipped into a small crevice in the wall shortly along the passage without breaking stride. Jayce squeezed after her, wriggling his girth through the narrow gap and cursing under his breath. He found himself in a small tunnel that he'd never known was there, but didn't stop to admire it. Charla was already moving.

The tunnel sloped upwards and curved to the left, no doubt over the top of the passageway they had been in earlier. It was a squeeze for Jayce, and slow-going, but the apes wouldn't know about this tunnel. At least, he hoped so.

Charla led them out into a small corridor that Jayce recognised as one of the many that led to the mess hall—or to the barracks, in the opposite direction. They didn't stay in the corridor long, slipping into another hidden tunnel in the opposite wall and continuing on their way. This tunnel was longer than the last, and Jayce was feeling slightly claustrophobic by the time they dropped into a larger cavern. It was a reasonable drop to the ground, but Charla made it easily with a clumsy bit of gliding. Jayce gingerly lowered himself down until he was hanging only by his hands, and dropped the rest of the way. He winced as jarring sensations rippled up his legs.

Jayce turned around and froze. He had never been in this cavern before—he hadn't even known it existed. It had to be almost as large as the Master Cavern, but not nearly as empty. It was dominated instead by the largest statue he had ever seen. A dragon statue.

The stone beast bore huge curving horns that almost touched the roof, and his carved paws were at least twice as large as Gaul himself. Yellow stones were imbedded where the dragon's eyes should have been, and they shone in the light of a thousand candles dotted around the countless ledges in the cavern. It seemed to glower down at them, disapproving and cold, as though it knew they were enemies to the mountain it guarded. Jayce felt himself shrinking under its yellow-stone gaze.

"Come on," Charla hissed and Jayce jumped. Broken from his reverie, he realised he could hear the clatter of apes approaching—no doubt the entire mountain was now on high alert. Gritting his teeth, Jayce tore his eyes away from the imposing statue.

"Let's go," he said. "We're not going to be alone here for much longer."

Charla glanced back at the statue, "I've been here a few times. I still don't know who that is. Or why there's a statue of a dragon here…"

Shaking her head, she turned away and galloped to the far side of the cavern. Jayce followed, casting a worried glance at the entrance to the cavern. The sounds of pursuing apes were growing louder by the second. Looking ahead, he found Charla had led him out to a balcony that overlooked the dark surroundings of the Well of Souls. It was near midday, but dark clouds choked the sky above the mountain as they almost always did, threatening rain or snow. A wintery chill rippled through the air.

Stepping to the edge of the balcony, Charla stared down to the ground far below, where jagged rocks and dead trees waited to embrace them. Stony plateaus surrounded the mountain, some littered with sparse vegetation. None were anywhere near as tall as the mountain itself, but Charla estimated—with a bit of luck—she might have been able to glide to one. That, however, didn't help Jayce.

"How do we get down from here?" the ape asked, voicing Charla's concerns unknowingly.

"I…don't know," she mumbled. "I never thought about that. I think I could glide, but I don't know how long I can hold it…"

"And I don't have wings," Jayce muttered. He glanced to the side, staring over the edge of the balcony. Jagged ledges, like giant steps, jutted from the side of the mountain down into darkness. "Maybe…"

A triumphant cry filled the cavern behind them and they spun around. A number of apes, bloodlust in their eyes and weaponry in their hands, were closing in. Jayce whirled back to the edge.

"No more time for planning!" he yelled. "Jump!"

He broke into a short run and leapt off the edge of the balcony. Charla stifled a cry of alarm and Jayce landed heavily on the ledge below. Shooting one last frightened glance at the charging throng of apes, Charla leapt after him. Her wings carried her across the gap and she landed lightly on the ledge, staggering nervously.

"Where…?" she began, but Jayce cut her off.

"Keep going!" he took another running leap and landed on a smaller ledge a meter below. His leg slipped over the edge and chips of stone crumbled into the darkness below. Gasping, he scrambled against the side of the mountain.

Again, Charla followed. Her paws left the ledge seconds before something exploded behind her, and with a shriek she careened into the side of the mountain. Flapping her wings frantically, Charla turned a terrified gaze back towards the apes. Their paws were filled with explosives, and the ledge she had been standing on previously was crumbling in the wake of the blast.

"Charla!"

"I'm coming!" she yelped, pushing away from the mountain and gliding unsteadily down to the nearest ledge. She turned around, looking for Jayce, and found him waving at her frantically from a lower outcropping.

"Over there!" he yelled, pointing towards a jutting plateau close to the mountain. There was a lengthy gap between it and Jayce's outcropping, but it was considerably lower.

"Can you jump that far?"

"We're about to find out."

The wind whipped Jayce's fur as he backed up as far as he could go and broke into a run. Charla watched fearfully as his feet left the edge and he soared out over the empty expanse. Slowly, he began to fall. Charla tried to call out to him, but something struck the ledge near her feet and she leapt into the air on instinct. Another explosion turned the ledge to dust as Charla desperately looked for a new foothold.

The wall of the mountain beside her exploded in a cloud of dust and stone fragments, and Charla dropped with a shriek. The wind buffeted her wings in awkward directions and she tumbled out of control towards oblivion. A jutting ledge of stone rose up to meet her, and Charla managed to flip herself around just in time. Her paws hit the stone heavily and she keeled over onto her side, gasping.

"Did ya hit it?" a voice yelled from somewhere above.

"Dunno. Looked like it. Anyone see where it landed?"

Holding her breath, Charla shuffled closer to the mountainside and hoped the shadows were enough to conceal her form. Her head was still ringing from the blasts, and it was a moment before she remembered Jayce. Choking back a gasp, she raked the surrounding plateaus for any sign of him. Her heart leapt into her throat when she spotted him clinging for dear life at the edge of the plateau several meters above her. His hind legs scrambled desperately for traction but found none.

"Jayce," she whispered.

"Think I can throw that far?" a voice said above her. Charla felt her blood turn to ice.

The apes chuckled to each other and Charla's stomach churned sickeningly. Were they really so amused by the idea of sending one of their own kin tumbling to his death? She wanted to call out to Jayce, but she knew it would do no good—and it would only alert the apes to her presence again.

The first stick of dynamite fell short, to Charla's relief. It exploded in the darkness somewhere below. The second struck the cliff face next to Jayce and bounced off, tumbling uselessly into the void. It was the third that struck home, skidding to a stop on top of the plateau, just inches from Jayce's fingers. Charla's heart stopped.

"Jay—!"

She thought she heard him swear under his breath, and then he did the only thing he could do to avoid being blown to smithereens. He let go. Like a stone he dropped into the dark expanse and the dynamite exploded. Charla couldn't hear her own scream through the blast, but it reverberated through her chest all the same. Like an arrow from a bow she leapt out and dived down towards her falling friend.

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she rocketed to her doom, chasing the falling form of Jayce. She beat her wings desperately, willing them to drive her faster. The wind whipped at her scales, harsh and cold. With a defiant cry and a final beat of her wings, she crashed into Jayce. Her claws hooked into his tunic as her forelegs wrapped around his chest, and a great weight settled upon her wings.

Jayce's wordless cry of shock was all she heard over the roar of the wind as, with all her strength, Charla tried to pull up. Her wings burned like fire and her forelegs felt like they were about to be ripped from her body, but she clung to Jayce as though her life depended on it—as though _his_ life depended on it.

"Come on," she whispered through gritted teeth. Tears ran freely from her eyes without her noticing, but were whipped away by the frigid winds. She forced her wings to continue beating through the pain, though all they wanted to do was fold. "I can… I can fly!"

The ground rushed up towards them. Had Charla eyes been open, she would have seen the thickets of dying trees coming into focus with every second. Jayce was yelling beneath her, but the wind tore at his words and turned them into distant noise. Charla screamed.

"I _can_ fly!"

Her eyes snapped open and sought out a low plateau in the gloom. It was a small, ugly outcropping of stone, but to her it was salvation. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Charla pulled up with all her strength and forced herself and her passenger towards it. Their descent slowed but didn't stop. Lower, lower they fell, until Charla was sure they wouldn't make it. But a final defiant beat of her wings proved that thought wrong.

Dragon and ape tumbled wordlessly onto the plateau, skidding to a halt on the cold stone. Charla felt her claws begin to loosen on Jayce's tunic, but she clung to him like to a lifeline until they had both come to a stop. For several moments, she was still, her cheek pressed against stone and her wings splayed at uncomfortable angles. Her heart thundered in her chest.

"Are we still alive?" Jayce rasped. He rolled over and his eyes met Charla's. She grinned.

"Uh-huh."

Shaking, Jayce sat up, at last freeing himself from Charla's claws. There were great tears in his tunic where she had held him, and a few tufts of fur had been torn out. "You flew."

"Uh-huh."

"You _carried_ me."

Charla giggled and rolled onto her belly, lifting her head with some effort. The Well of Souls towered over them and, for the first time, Charla was able to appreciate it in its entirety. It was huge—bigger than she'd even thought—and seemed to touch the clouds themselves, dark with the threat of snow. The top gaped open, like the jaws of some long-dead petrified beast frozen in a final roar. Rivers of acid green flowed like blood down its walls.

"We…we made it." Jayce flopped onto his back and stared at the sky, gasping for breath.

Charla stared at the mountain warily for several moments longer, but caught no sign of the apes that had pursued them. From this distance, she couldn't even see the balcony they had fallen from. The only sound was the distant roar of the wind and the creaking of trees below. She grinned.

"Yeah."


End file.
